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MRS.  JIM  TULLY 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

SECOND  EDITION 


BY  SIDNEY  L.   NYBURG 
THE  CONQUEST 

$1.25  net 

H.  W.  Boynton,  the  noted  critic,  selected 
this  as  one  of  the  ten  most  noteworthy  novels 
of  1916  (see  January  Bookman). 

THE  NATION  :  "This  is  a  story  at  once 
thoughtful  and  dramatic  of  the  ruling  passion. 
It  is  not  easy  to  recall  in  recent  fiction  a  more 
striking  portrait  of  a  man  governed  by  ambi 
tion;  and  one  might  look  far  for  a  better 
planned  book." 

THE  FINAL  VERDICT 

SIX  STORIES  OF  MEN  AND  WOMEN 
$1.00  net 

BOSTON  TRANSCRIPT:  "The  six  stories  re 
veal  a  keen  and  searching  analysis  of  human 
nature  as  well  as  a  familiarity  with  law." 

JAMES  L.  FORD  IN  THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD: 
"  Interesting  and  instinct  with  the  comprehen 
siveness  of  one  who  knows  whereof  he  writes." 

THE  BOOKMAN:  "A  delightful  and  unex 
pected  treat.  The  stories  are  written  with 
real  artistry  and  a  true  perception  of  literary 
values." 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 


BY 

SIDNEY  L.  NYBURG 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  FINAL  VERDICT,"  "THE  CONQUEST,"  ETC. 


"And  ye  shall  be  unto  Me  a  kingdom 
of  priests  and  a  holy  nation." 

— EXODUS  19-6 


PHILADELPHIA  AND  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1917 


COPYRIGHT.  1917,  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PUBLISHED,  MARCH  191 7 


PRINTED   BT   J.  B.   LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,  U.  S.  A. 


To 
H.  L.  N. 


829486 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    A  PROPHET  IN  ISRAEL 9 

II.    MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 16 

III.  THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 25 

IV.  POST-PRANDIAL 41 

V.    THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 44 

VI.    THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 56 

VII.     PUBLIC  PENANCE 77 

VIII.     CONCERNING  LOVE — SACRED  AND  PROFANE 83 

IX.  CONCERNING  JEWS — REFORMED  AND  INCORRIGIBLE.  ...     93 

X.    A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 112 

XI.    A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 135 

XII.    How  A  POPULAR  HERO  is  MADE 150 

XIII.  THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 166 

XIV.  A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 187 

XV.    THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 204 

XVI.    THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 220 

XVII.    THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 241 

XVIII.    THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 255 

XIX.    THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 271 

XX.    THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 287 

XXI.    A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 299 

XXII.    THE  HAPPY  ENDING 319 

XXIII.  GOD'S  WORK 330 

XXIV.  A  PROPHET  LISTENS  TO  REASOW  . .  •. 357 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

CHAPTER  I 
A  PROPHET  IN  ISRAEL 

"  ON  this  day  shall  ye  be  forgiven  and  cleansed  from 
all  your  sins :  before  God  ye  shall  be  pure !" 

The  solemn  words  of  the  young  Rabbi  were  at  one  and 
the  same  moment  an  earnest  command  to  future  holiness 
and  a  promise  of  the  Divine  Compassion.  He  seemed,  as 
he  spoke,  a  fitting  prophet  of  God's  word.  His  slender 
young  figure  quivered  with  a  noble  enthusiasm.  His  dark 
handsome  face  was  aglow  with  that  light  which  comes 
to  a  man  who  believes  himself  to  be  dedicated  with  all 
his  strength  and  vigor  to  a  sacred  cause. 

The  Great  White  Fast — the  Day  of  Atonement,  the 
holiest  day  in  all  the  year — was  nearing  its  close.  Through 
the  stained  glass  western  windows  of  the  Temple  Beth 
El,  the  setting  sun  cast  great  pools  of  crimson  and  purple 
upon  the  floor  of  the  synagogue.  The  vast  congregation 
sat  silent  and  responsive  under  the  spell  of  this  youth 
whom  they  had  called  from  his  little  Western  village 
home  to  be  their  guide. 

As  for  himself,  all  through  the  long  day  of  prayer  he 
had,  in  his  exaltation,  given  no  sign  of  the  sense  of 
achievement  so  normal  to  a  man  of  twenty-four,  suddenly 
called  to  become  the  minister  of  the  largest  and  wealth 
iest  synagogue  in  Baltimore, — a  city  where  American 
Judaism  had  already  acquired  something  of  a  tradition. 

Throughout  his  prayer,  as  in  his  eloquent  sermon  of 

9 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

the  morning,  he  seemed  aglow  with  the  fervor  of  a  youth 
into  whose  hands  had  been  placed  a  holy  charge.  These 
were  to  be  his  people !  He  would  use  them  for  God's  pur 
poses  !  Through  him  there  should  come  to  this  commu 
nity  an  era  of  nobleness  and  largeness  of  vision  possible 
only  to  men  and  women  moved  by  the  spirit  of  the  Faith 
he  knew  to  be  the  Truth. 

From  time  to  time  as  the  organ  tones  pealed  out,  he 
had  eyed  his  parishioners  almost  wistfully.  Some  were 
old  and  grizzled,  some  had  features  almost  stolid  in  their 
unimaginativeness ;  all  appeared  prosperous  and  but  too 
well  contented  with  the  world  as  it  then  was.  Would  he 
ever  be  able  to  make  them  see  the  vision  that  was  con 
stantly  before  his  eyes?  But  as  the  day  wore  on  he  found, 
or  thought  he  found,  the  most  sodden  become  kindled 
by  the  flame  of  his  own  enthusiasm,  and  he  cast  his 
doubts  aside. 

Even  though  softened  by  years  of  ease  and  affluence, 
these  were  still  God's  people, — descendants  of  the  stern 
men  who  had  followed  Moses  through  the  bitterness  of 
the  Wilderness,  and  had,  centuries  after,  withstood  the 
fires  of  the  Inquisition.  In  this  later  day  of  opportunity 
the  mission  of  the  Jew  was  still  to  be  fulfilled,  and  he, 
Philip  Graetz,  among  these  men  and  women,  would  not 
fail  to  do  his  share. 

Since  early  morning  the  throng  in  the  stately  building 
had  been  held  under  the  spell  of  this  youth's  passionate 
fervor.  Philip  knew  only  too  well  that  the  enthusiasm  of 
this  great  Fast  was  no  fair  test  of  the  daily  measure  of  his 
congregation's  interest.  With  the  loosening  of  the  bonds 
of  orthodoxy  the  daily  visit  of  the  faithful  to  the  syna 
gogue  had  long  since  become  a  thing  of  the  past,  and 

10 


A  PROPHET  IN  ISRAEL 

only  on  great  festival  days  did  one  witness  the  vast  out 
pouring  of  men  and  women,  seemingly  indifferent  to  their 
faith  on  all  other  days  of  the  year.  Beth  El  had  all  the 
characteristics  of  what  is  termed  the  reformed  wing  of 
Judaism.  Its  creed  had  been  purged  of  all  except  a  simple 
monotheism ;  it  had  cast  aside  most  of  the  forms  and  cere 
monials  of  the  older  faith;  its  ritual,  so  its  members 
believed,  was  rooted  in  absolute  rationalism. 

If  one  had  strayed  within  its  walls  he  would  hardly 
have  been  able  to  state  with  positiveness  wherein,  save  for 
an  occasional  phrase  or  response  spoken  in  the  ancient 
Hebrew  tongue,  its  worship  differed  from  that  of  the 
Unitarian.  The  men  and  women  were  seated  side  by  side 
in  defiance  of  the  orthodox  convention;  the  Rabbi  and 
his  listeners  were  uncovered.  Professional  musicians  of 
both  sexes  filled  the  Temple  with  melody  whose  beauty 
was  in  no  way  characteristic  of  the  Jewish  tradition. 

Of  all  this  Philip  Graetz  approved.  Yet  he  believed 
that  the  true  essentials  of  Judaism  were  still  inherent  in 
this  simplified  form.  He  was  sure  that  behind  the  mask 
of  indifference,  the  racial  spirit  of  the  Jew  was  still  living 
and  throbbing,  and  he  meant,  with  all  his  soul,  to  awaken 
it  to  vigor  and  to  a  commanding  influence  in  the  daily  life 
of  this  old  city. 

He  believed  in  himself  and  in  his  work.  He  was 
already  compelling  these  well-dressed,  comfortable  creat 
ures  to  think  and  to  feel.  He  would  make  Religion — 
their  own  Religion,  Judaism — the  dominating  force  in  the 
intimate  lives  of  these  people, — these  unformed  youths, 
these  delicate  featured  impressionable  maidens,  the  young 
husbands  and  wives, — and  even  among  the  old !  He  could 
not  afford  to  doubt  his  own  success.  His  mission  was  too 

11 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

important  for  failure.     He,  in  his  humble  way,  was  to 
be  God's  prophet. 

The  words  of  the  stately  ritual  fell  from  his  lips  as 
though  they  had  been  phrased  to  meet  his  very  need : 

"  Oh,  consecrate  our  hearts  unto  Thee,  and  make  them 
Thy  living  altars,  whereon  shall  burn  the  holy  flame  of 
devotion  to  Thee,  oh  Merciful  God." 

Amid  the  exultant  notes  of  the  organ  the  service  drew 
to  its  end,  but  Philip  seemed  to  feel,  somehow,  as  though 
he  could  not  let  these, — his  people — go.  His  very  soul 
yearned  to  make  them  know  all  his  purposes  toward  them, 
the  help  he  meant  to  bring  to  them,  the  wounds  he  meant 
to  heal,  the  consolation  and  strength  he  meant  to  bring 
to  the  heart  of  each  of  them.  As  he  rose  to  pronounce  the 
benediction,  suddenly,  almost  without  volition  on  his  part, 
moved,  as  the  Rabbi  would  have  said,  by  God  Himself, 
his  tense  emotion  broke  forth  in  unpremeditated  prayer. 

"  Great  Spirit  of  the  Universe,"  he  cried,  "  whom  none 
of  us  may  comprehend,  but  whose  presence  fills  our  lives, 
it  is  our  ardent  prayer  that  the  inspiration  of  this  hour 
may  never  vanish  from  our  hearts.  Be  with  us  as  we 
return  to  our  homes  so  that  each  of  them  may  be  happier, 
purer  and  richer,  in  the  beauty  of  earnest  manhood 
and  womanhood ! 

"  Be  with  us  through  the  long  and  difficult  years  that 
are  to  come,  filling  our  souls  with  strength  and  purpose 
to  mold  this  vast  world  into  harmony  with  Thine  own 
Justice. 

"  Help  us  in  the  daily  struggle  of  the  counting-room 
and  the  market  place,  to  thrill  with  the  warm  human  love 
of  all  mankind,  which  is  the  one  great  law  of  our  Holy 
Faith. 

12 


A  PROPHET  IN  ISRAEL 

"  For  the  dim  vision  of  Thy  Divine  Love,  O  God,  our 
fathers  and  our  fathers'  fathers  for  twenty  centuries  have 
smilingly  embraced  the  rack,  the  scaffold  and  the  stake, 
and  Thou  hast  marvelously  preserved  them  through  all 
the  ages  that  Thy  Spirit  might  not  perish  from  the  earth. 

"  Help  us  then,  the  children  of  Thy  martyr  people,  to 
be  loyal  also,  to  our  great  heritage !  In  these  days  of  ener 
vating  ease,  keep  us  true  to  the  ideals  for  which  our 
fathers  blithely  suffered  and  died. 

"  May  we,  too,  be  staunch  and  brave  and  true  to  our 
tradition,  and  remain  unshaken  in  our  resolve  to  bequeath 
to  our  children  ever  more  and  more  of  Thy  Divine  Spirit 
than  we  have  ourselves  received,  as  the  birthright  of 
the  Jew. 

"  And  for  myself,  who  have  come  into  this  strange 
land  to  minister  unto  Thy  people,  give  me,  I  pray,  a  full 
measure  of  vigor  and  courage  to  interpret  Thy  mysterious 
Word.  Let  me  not  fail  in  the  great  work  of  making  Thy 
Love  and  Thy  Purpose  manifest  unto  each  of  these  men 
and  women  who  shall  look  to  me  for  guidance.  Make  me 
clear  of  eye  to  see  the  Truth,  and  dauntless  of  spirit  to 
strike  at  evil  without  one  thought  as  to  how  great  be  its 
strength,  or  how  perilous  the  encounter. 

"  Help  me  to  work  Thy  will  among  this,  Thy  people ! 
Make  of  me  with  all  my  youth,  with  all  my  ignorance,  with 
all  my  weaknesses,  the  instrument  of  Thy  irresistible 
inspiration. 

"  Like  David,  God's  servant  of  old,  I  am  but  a  strip 
ling,  and  as  my  people  look  upon  their  feeble  and  untried 
leader  and  think  of  the  work  I  am  yearning  to  do  for  them 
and  with  them,  remembering  the  scoffing,  skeptical,  prac 
tical  army  of  men  and  women  who  are  girt  round  about 

13 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

us,  mocking  at  virtue  and  holiness  and  Love  (human  and 
divine) — our  hearts  may  well  grow  faint,  and  sink  within 
us.  But,  like  David,  I  shall  go  forth  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  strong  in  the  knowledge  that  the 
battle  I  am  to  wage  is  not  for  myself  and  my  own  poor 
glory,  but  for  Him  and  His  Divine  Service. 

"  Help  us  then,  oh  Father,  each  according  to  his  pitiful 
needs,  so  that  in  the  end  we  may  become  truly  Thy  priest 
people;  that  through  us,  Thy  Truth  and  Thy  Love  may 
encompass  all  the  Earth,  as  the  waters  that  cover  the  sea." 

Slowly,  thoughtfully,  in  striking  contrast  to  its  usual 
heedless  habit,  the  huge  congregation  filed  from  the  great 
white  structure.  Even  in  the  Autumn  twilight,  amid  the 
trees  and  shrubbery  of  the  hill-side  parked  street,  they 
did  not  find  it  easy  to  emerge  into  the  commonplaces  of 
daily  unexalted  life.  There  was  something  different  about 
this  new  young  Rabbi.  One  or  two  young  men  smiled 
tolerantly  and  wondered  how  long  he  would  be  able  to 
maintain  this  attitude  of  rarified  exaltation,  but  they  met 
with  little  response  from  their  sobered  friends. 

Among  the  throng  there  walked  slowly  and  silently 
an  unusually  pretty,  dark-haired  and  dark-eyed  girl,  whose 
face  seemed  still  to  be  reflecting  the  emotion  of  the  young 
minister.  After  a  few  minutes  she  turned  to  her  older 
sister  and  said  impulsively,  "  Isn't  he  wonderful,  Bess  ? 
Isn't  he  wonderful  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Ruth,  wonderful,"  her  sister  answered,  "  I'm 
sorry  Rob  didn't  get  there ;  I  think  even  he  would  have 
been  impressed." 

"  Why  didn't  Rob  come  ?"  the  girl  asked ;  "  he  usually 
conies  to  Temple  at  the  end  of  Services  on  Atonement 
day." 

14 


A  PROPHET  IN  ISRAEL 

"  Operating.  I  suppose,"  his  wife  answered,  with  a 
hint  of  dissatisfaction  in  her  voice.  "A  surgeon  never 
gets  anywhere.  But  I  wish  he  could  have  heard  Dr.  Graetz. 
We  must  have  him  to  dinner  one  night  next  week." 

The  girl  made  an  impatient  gesture  as  though  her  gen 
erous  enthusiasm  had  been  suddenly  chilled,  but  she  did 
not  answer,  and  the  two  walked  silently  down  the  hillside 
to  their  home. 


CHAPTER  II 

MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 

IT  was  considerably  after  six  o'clock,  and  Mrs.  Frank 
was  beginning  to  display  signs  of  restlessness.  The  chil 
dren  had  received  their  good-night  kisses,  together  with 
appropriate  bribes  and  threats,  cunningly  devised  to  stifle 
any  noise  which  might  disturb  their  mother's  carefully 
planned  dinner.  Her  own  becoming  toilet  was  complete ; 
but  her  husband  had  not  come  home.  It  was  a  ghastly 
task,  trying  to  do  anything  gracefully  if  one  happened  to 
be  the  wife  of  a  busy  surgeon.  She  had  extorted  a  score 
of  solemn  promises  that  he  would  forget  all  other  claims 
for  this  one  night,  and  she  had  invoked  upon  him  every 
possible  form  of  vengeance  if  he  should  fail  her.  She 
did  want,  above  all  things,  that  the  dinner  she  was  giving 
in  honor  of  the  new  Rabbi  should  be  a  real  success.  And 
if  she  must  begin  by  explaining  her  husband's  absence — 

But  even  as  she  glanced  nervously  at  the  clock,  the 
doctor's  rapid  step  was  heard  running  up  the  stairs  and, 
without  going  through  the  ceremony  of  tapping  at  the 
door,  he  burst  into  the  room. 

Mrs.  Frank  had  always  intended,  sometime,  to  have  a 
room  of  her  own.  She  knew  that  good  taste  was  tending 
in  that  direction,  and  besides,  if  a  man  would  allow  his 
sleep  to  be  shattered  by  midnight  telephone  calls,  there 
was  no  reason  why  his  wife  should  suffer.  But  the  house 
was  too  small  to  provide  her  even  with  a  dressing  room, 
and  the  doctor,  indulgent  in  all  other  things,  refused 
firmly  her  plea  for  a  home  in  the  suburbs.'  He  found 

16 


MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 

it  hard  enough  to  care  for  his  practice  living  here  as 
they  did  on  Eutaw  Place.  He  had  offered,  by  way  of 
compromise,  to  rebuild  the  present  dwelling;  to  pur 
chase  the  adjoining  house  and  build  a  big  home  of  her 
own  designing,  but  acceptance  of  this  offer  meant  a  perma 
nent  abandonment  of  her  hopes,  and  so  the  months  went 
by  and  she  remained  just  where  she  was. 

"  Hello,"  the  doctor  called  to  her,  boyishly,  "  you're 
all  dressed,  I  see !  My,  but  you  look  festive.  Give  me  a 
kiss  and  help  me  get  into  my  dinner  clothes.  Aren't  you 
going  to  say  anything  nice  to  me  for  being  an  obedient 
husband  ?  I  promised,  and  here  I  am,  on  time  to  the  dot." 

She  smiled  at  him  indulgently  and  pointed  warningly 
to  the  clock  on  her  dressing  table. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  time,  lots  of  time,"  he  assured  her. 
"  You've  put  all  my  togs  out  for  me,  haven't  you  ?  That's 
an  angel.  If  I  hadn't  sworn  to  you  I'd  be  here,  I'd  have 
cut.  I  surely  have  been  busy  today." 

"  You  always  are,"  she  answered,  "  if  you  were  a  sea 
captain  or  an  Arctic  explorer,  I'd  see  you  oftener  than 
I  do." 

And  as  if  to  illustrate  the  text,  the  telephone  next  to 
the  bed  broke  suddenly  into  an  insistent  clang. 

The  doctor  sprang  toward  it,  but  she  intercepted  him. 

"  Listen,  Rob,"  she  commanded  with  a  hand  on  his 
arm.  "  You  can't  go,  no  matter  who  wants  you.  If  it's 
the  President  he  must  wait,  or  get  somebody  else.  Just 
this  one  night, — please !  " 

He  was  already  holding  the  receiver  to  his  ear  and 
exchanging  greetings  with  the  man  at  the  other  end  of 
the  wire. 

"  Oh,  Dr.  Deeming !     *     *     *     No !    I'm  sorry.    I'm 

2  17 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

afraid  you'll  have  to  let  another  man  see  him.  *  *  * 
Try  Sorrell.  *  *  *  Yes,  he  can  do  it  better  than  I 
could.  *  *  *  Yes,  he  can !  *  *  *  Well,  you  see 
if  I  go  out  now  I'll  have  a  divorce  proceeding  on  my 
hands.  *  *  *  Oh,  divorce  takes  up  more  time  than 
a  dinner  party.  *  *  *  Yes,  it's  something  special. 
You  think  he  could  wait?  *  *  *  Midnight?  *  *  * 
Yes  —  I'll  meet  you  then  *  *  *  Church  Home 
*  *  *  Oh,  yes,  I'll  surely  be  there.  *  *  *  They 
better  had  be  gone  by  midnight !  Good-bye !  " 

"  There,"  he  said  hanging  up  the  receiver  and  going  on 
with  his  dressing,  "there's  nobody  else  in  the  world  but 
you,  Bess,  for  whom  I'd  have  refused  to  come  when  Dr. 
Deeming  called." 

"You're  not  really  going  out  at  twelve  o'clock  to 
night?"  she  asked,  handing  him  now  and  then  some 
necessary  garment  as  she  talked. 

"  I  surely  am,"  he  insisted,  gaily.  "  What  do  you 
care  ?  Even  a  new  Rabbi  will  be  talked  out  before  then. 
I  can  go  and  do  my  little  bit  of  surgery  in  peace." 

"  You  know,  Rob,"  she  complained,  "  I  don't  believe 
you  ever  think  of  anything  but  your  nasty  old  work.  I 
never  can  get  you  to  take  me  anywhere.  We  never  spend 
a  peaceful  hour  together.  Morning,  noon  and<  night, 
you're  at  one  hospital  or  another.  The  children  barely 
recognize  you.  And  I  wouldn't  mind  it  so  much  if  you 
really  had  to  do  it.  But  we  could  manage  just  as  com 
fortably  if  you  didn't  earn  a  penny."  In  his  grotesque 
disarray,  he  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  I  know,"  she  went  on  quickly,  anticipating  his  pro 
test,  "  you're  going  to  say  I'd  hate  being  married  to  a  man 
who  didn't  do  his  work  well  enough  to  be  in  demand,  and 

18 


MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 

that  one  can't  practice  a  profession  unless  he  puts  his 
whole  self  into  it — and  all  the  rest.  I've  listened  to  it 
before.  But  it  leaves  me  somehow  stranded !  " 

He  crossed  the  room,  half  dressed  as  he  was,  took 
her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  heartily. 

"  Stop ! "  she  cried,  without,  however,  trying  to  free 
herself,  "  you're  mussing  my  best  bib  and  tucker." 

"  Well,"  he  said  as  he  returned  to  the  prosaic  task 
of  putting  on  his  collar,  "  it's  hard  on  you  women,  I  know. 
I'm  sorry  for  you ;  but  I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  it. 
You  married  me  because  you  wanted  a  man  who  wasn't 
keen  on  drifting  along,  doing  nothing.  You  had  plenty  of 
chances  to  marry  the  other  kind.  Now  here  I  am — I 
can't  do  things  by  halves,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it. 
You've  got  a  job.  There  are  the  kiddies." 

She  sighed.  "  Children  aren't  much  of  a  job  for  peo 
ple  with  money,  Rob.  Barbara  looks  after  them  better 
than  I  could.  When  they  get  older,  there  will  be  gov 
ernesses,  and  schools  and  things." 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  answered  with  masculine  cheerfulness, 
"  we  won't  settle  the  woman  question  now.  Maybe  we'll 
lose  all  our  money  and  you  can  cook  and  clean  house  like 
your  grandmother  did.  I  believe  you'd  do  it  pretty  well, 
and  be  a  lot  happier.  Meanwhile,  who  is  coming  to  dinner 
besides  the  holy  man  ?  " 

"Don't  sneer  at  him,  Robert,"  she  ordered.  "Why 
do  all  you  men  feel  so  superior  to  a  minister?  " 

"  I  suspect  it's  because  we  think  he  gets  paid  for  being 
good,  Bess,  which  is  another  way  of  saying  '  He's  good, 
'cause  it  pays  him.'  " 

"He  isn't!  "    He  gets  paid  for  making  us  good." 

"  Gosh,"  answered  the  doctor  hurriedly  brushing  his 
19 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

hair,  "  then  he  hasn't  earned  anything  on  my  account.  No 
wonder  he  has  to  go  out  to  his  meals.  Who  else  will 
be  here?" 

"Well,"  his  wife  said,  "there'll  be  Clarence  and 
Florence,  of  course." 

"  Of  course,"  he  repeated,  "  he'll  tell  me  how  well 
America  could  be  run  if  it  were  managed  like  his  factory, 
and  Florence  will  explain  how  she  is  going  to  get  thin 
again  next  year." 

"  Is  there  anyone  who  measures  up  to  your  level,  my 
dear  ?  "  Elizabeth  asked  with  a  smile. 

"There  are  such  people,"  he  retorted,  "  but  we  don't 
seem  to  have  them  to  dinner." 

"  Well,  there'll  be  Arthur  Kahn,"  she  went  on,  "  he 
has  brains,  hasn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  he's  smug.  Good  Lord !  but  he  is  smug. 
Even  your  dear  Uncle  Clarence  has  trouble  out-doing  him. 
If  Ruth  marries  him,  I  shall  take  out  his  appendix  with 
fatal  results  the  first  time  her  fudge  disagrees  with  him." 

"  Then  be  nice  to  Dr.  Graetz,"  she  advised  him  mean 
ingly.  "  Ruth  is  going  to  marry  some  one,  you  know. 
Maybe  you'll  like  Dr.  Graetz  better." 

"  I  do,  I  do,"  the  doctor  assured  her.  "  Whatever 
he's  like,  he  has  my  vote.  Anyone  else  coming?  " 

"  Rose  Behrend  and  Frieda  Stern — Ruth  wanted 
them,"  Elizabeth  went  on. 

"  Good,"  Robert  said,  "  put  Frieda  next  to  me,  if  I 
must  have  one.  She  amuses  me.  I  like  them  impudent. 
That's  how  you  won  my  heart,  Bess,  dear.  Now  tie  my 
miserable  white  tie  and  I'll  be  a  thing  of  beauty.  Isn't 
your  party  one  man  short?  " 

20 


MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 

"  No,"  Mrs.  Frank  answered  as  she  deftly  knotted  the 
scarf.  "  The  last  man  will  be  David  Gordon." 

The  doctor  suddenly  stopped  smiling  and  emitted  a 
low  and  prolonged  whistle. 

"  David  Gordon !  How  in  the  devil  did  you  chance 
on  him,  and  still  more,  why  did  he  say  he'd  come  ?  He's 
not  the  dinner  type.  He's  more  like  me." 

"  Don't,"  Elizabeth  protested,  indignantly,  "  he's  not 
like  you.  He's  horrid.  I  don't  care  if  he  is  a  '  big '  lawyer, 
— I  didn't  want  him.  I'm  sure  he  is  going  to  spoil  my 
whole  party.  Ruth  asked  him." 

The  doctor  raised  his  eyebrows  inquiringly.  "  Ruth ! 
I  didn't  know  she'd  been  cultivating  Gordon." 

"You  never  do  know  what's  going  on  in  your  own 
house,"  Elizabeth  stated  with  resignation.  "  Gordon  did 
some  legal  work  for  the  social  service  group  of  Ruth's 
Alumnae  Association, — some  Child  Labor  Law  or  some 
thing.  He  must  have  done  it  particularly  well ;  he  made  a 
tremendous  impression  on  her.  He  didn't  do  it  like  any 
gentleman  would  have  done,  just  because  he  was  inter 
ested.  He  charged  them  a  good  stiff  fee." 

"  Is  that  why  you  call  him  horrid  ?  "  the  doctor  asked. 
"  He  got  them  what  they  wanted,  didn't  he?  And  if  they 
are  all  like  Ruth,  they  were  able  to  pay." 

"Of  course,"  his  wife  admitted,  "but  you  know  it 
wasn't  '  nice '  to  treat  a  group  of  girls  that  way.  He 
should  have  entered  into  their  own  spirit  of  enthusiasm, 
or  made  some  excuse  for  doing  nothing  at  all." 

"  I  see,"  her  husband  observed,  "  I  think  you  are 
wrong,  but  I  never  did  know  much  about  the  ornamental 
side  of  life.  Well,  since  then,  I  take  it,  Ruth  finds  him 
interesting,  and  you  find  him  dangerous?" 

21 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Mrs.  Frank  nodded.  "  That's  one  way  of  putting  it," 
she  said,  "of  course,  I  don't  know  just  what  Ruth  thinks 
about  him.  I've  no  real  reason  to  be  so  serious  about  it, 
but  he  is  clever,  and  ambitious,  too,  I  suppose,  and  Ruth 
is  rich  and  pretty.  I  don't  like  it." 

"  You'd  better  let  Ruth  meet  a  live  man  once  in  awhile 
instead  of  these  conventional,  college-made  Cash  Regis 
ters  like  Arthur  Kahn,"  Robert  cautioned  her.  "  A  hus 
band  lasts  a  long  time  and  the  docile  dainty  ones  are 
worse,  if  anything,  than  the  men  you  can't  manage.  If 
she  wants  Gordon,  thank  your  particular  God  she  knows 
an  intelligent  human  animal  when  she  sees  one,  even  if  he 
doesn't  reek  of  money.  Ruth  has  enough,  and  Gordon 
isn't  the  type  who'll  want  to  dangle  around  spending  his 
wife's  income." 

"  I'd  rather  he  were,"  Elizabeth  said  with  spirit,  "  then 
he  wouldn't  interest  her,  or  if  he  did,  he'd  spend  his  life 
trying  to  please  her." 

"  He  wouldn't  succeed,"  the  doctor  proclaimed  dog 
matically,  "  any  decent  woman  would  soon  be  disgusted 
by  a  man  who  spent  his  life  trying  to  satisfy  her  whims." 

"  Perhaps,"  Elizabeth  said  doubtfully,  "  but  this  one 
surely  wouldn't  make  her  happy.  I  want  her  to  marry 
what  you  call  a  live  man.  You're  live.  But  you're  nice, 
anyhow.  He  isn't." 

"Why  not,  Bess?  I  never  heard  any  harm  of  him. 
He  ranks  as  the  most  prominent  lawyer  of  his  age  in  town. 
He's  building  a  splendid  practice.  There's  no  Jew  of  his 
age  in  the  city  who  has  done  so  much,  having  so  little  to 
start  with." 

"  We  can't  really  call  him  a  Jew  at  all,  if  you  drag  that 
in,"  Elizabeth  urged,  "  he  doesn't  believe  in  anything." 

22 


MRS.  FRANK  ENTERTAINS 

"  No  more  do  I,"  Robert  replied  cheerfully,  "  it  doesn't 
seem  to  bother  you." 

"  He  talks  unpleasantly,"  his  wife  continued,  seeming 
to  find  genuine  delight  in  enumerating  the  faults  of  her 
prospective  guest.  "  He  makes  you  feel  uncomfortable. 
He  seems  to  take  a  real  joy  in  making  all  our  little  foibles 
seem  absurd.  He  doesn't  fit  in  with  any  of  our  habits, — 
Ruth's,  habits  either.  Naturally,  I  don't  want  my  sister 
to  encourage  a  man  who  will  estrange  her  from  all  of  her 
friends,  and  mine." 

"  All  of  whdch,  translated,"  Robert  insisted  Impa 
tiently,  "  means  that  he's  a  Russian  Jew,  instead  of  having 
been  born  here  with  German  Jews  for  grandparents." 

"  Well  if  you  will  have  it,  then,"  Elizabeth  conceded, 
"  I'm  willing  to  put  it  on  that  score.  He's  a  Russian,  and 
that  means  he's  somehow  uncouth, — at  least  to  us.  He 
isn't  delicate.  I'm  willing  to  suppose  he's  honest,  and 
brilliant,  and  has  all  the  virtues  you  want  to  claim  for 
him,  but  he  isn't  one  of  us,  and  he  never  can  be." 

The  eminent  surgeon  laughed  patronizingly. 

"  Don't  be  a  snob,  my  dear.  It's  particularly  silly  in 
a  Jewess — any  kind,  American,  German,  or  Russian. 
There's  a  lady  in  Roland  Park  tonight,  saying  just  your 
own  words  about  you." 

"  But  it  isn't  true  of  me,"  Elizabeth  protested  indig 
nantly,  "  so  I  don't  care  if  she  says  it  or  not.  Of  the 
Russians,  it  is  true." 

Once  more  her  husband  laughed.  Then  he  spoke 
slowly. 

"  You  do  care,  Bess.  Why  should  you  pretend  with  me  ? 
You  certainly  wish  every  one  could  be  judged  on  his  own 
merits  whether  he  be  Jew,  Christian,  or  Mohammedan.  It 

23 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

hurts  you  when  you  find  yourself  treated  discourteously 
just  because  you  are  a  Jewess.  How  can  you  expect  a 
mere  Christian  to  learn  tolerance,  if  you  haven't  it  your 
self?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  begin  to  learn  by  using  my  only  sister 
•as  an  experiment,"  Elizabeth  answered.  "  It  isn't  as 
though  there  were  no  other  men  worth  while  besides 
Gordon.  Now,  if  she  should  happen  to  like  Dr. 
Graetz !" 

"  Ah !  "  the  doctor  murmured.  "  I  begin  to  see.  We 
are  going  Rabbi  stalking.  In  how  many  homes  in  Balti 
more  tonight  do  you  suppose  webs  are  being  spun  to 
entrap  this  poor,  innocent  boy  into  mixing  up  his  ideas  of 
Sacred  Love  with  profane  ?  " 

Elizabeth  smiled.    It  was  her  turn  to  be  tolerant. 

"  It  won't  hurt  him,"  she  asserted.  "  If  I  were  a  man, 
I'd  rather  like  to  be  married  to  Ruth.  Besides,  you  know, 
he  must  marry  sometime.  Even  you,  my  dread  Lord  and 
Master,  couldn't  escape,  and  after  all,  are  you  so  much  the 
worse  for  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  much  better,"  he  assured  her  gallantly,  as  he  led 
the  way  to  the  staircase,  "  but  think  of  your  own  fate ! 
And  your  interest  is  in  Ruth,  not  in  the  child  Rabbi." 

"  I  find  you  reasonably  bearable,"  she  said,  making  a 
grimace  at  him,  "  at  least,  on  those  rare  occasion  when  you 
honor  me  with  your  presence." 

"  Maybe  that's  why  you  do  find  me  bearable,"  he 
retorted  gaily,  as  they  descended  the  stairs  arm  in  arm. 
"  Now,  the  holy  man,  you  must  remember,  only  works  two 
days  in  each  and  every  week." 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

IN  many  ways  Philip  Graetz  was  younger  than  his 
actual  age  would  have  indicated.  From  his  early  youth 
he  had  felt  himself  destined  for  the  ministry,  and  the 
years  he  might  otherwise  have  spent  in  careless  contact 
with  chance  companions  had  been  devoted  to  diligent 
study  and  preparation.  At  college  and  later,  at  the 
theological  seminary,  his  absorption  in  fitting  himself  for 
his  mission  had  left  him  little  time,  and  still  less  in 
clination,  for  frivolity.  His  intimates  were  few,  and 
principally  students  who  shared  his  own  unearthly 
enthusiasms.  His  parents  had  died  during  his  childhood, 
leaving  him  a  legacy  which  would  have  seemed  small  to 
most  men,  but  which  was  ample  for  his  purposes.  Such 
few  relations  as  he  had,  looked  askance  upon  his  ambi 
tions,  and  his  choice  of  a  career.  Indeed,  one  of  the  few 
quarrels  he  could  remember  had  occurred  between  him 
self  and  his  paternal  uncle,  when  he  had  insisted  upon 
refusing  that  gentleman's  benevolently  meant  offer  of  an 
interest  in  a  flourishing  department  store  in  a  Western 
City. 

It  followed  then,  that  his  knowledge  of  men  and 
women — the  actual  clay  out  of  which  he  was  to  mold  into 
tangible  form  the  visions  of  his  religious  ecstasy — was 
based  altogether  upon  his  own  imagination,  and  the  books 
he  had  read.  He  really  loved  his  fellow  creatures  ardently, 
meant  to  live  for  them,  and  had  necessity  arisen,  would 
not  have  shirked  dying  to  serve  their  needs.  None  the 
less,  in  the  commonplaces  of  every-day  life,  he  felt  inex- 

25 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

pressibly  shy  and  ill  at  ease.  To  enter  a  drawing-room 
full  of  people  was  to  him  an  actual  ordeal,  to  be  avoided, 
if  possible,  and  to  be  dreaded  if  no  escape  were  to  be 
found. 

One  cannot  remain  unconscious  of  such  a  malady  as 
this,  and  Philip,  realizing  what  a  handicap  his  self  con 
sciousness  might  become,  had  determined  to  accept  the 
advice  given  him  by  a  well-loved  teacher  in  his  divinity 
school  who  had  recognized  his  youthful  talent  as  a  thing 
too  precious  to  be  wasted.  He  had,  therefore,  urged 
young  Graetz,  after  his  graduation,  to  devote  an  entire 
year  to  aimless  travel,  learning  to  meet  and  to  mingle  with 
chance  acquaintances.  Events  had  moved  too  swiftly  to 
permit  this  plan  to  be  put  into  practice.  A  committee  from 
the  Baltimore  congregation,  seeking  an  incumbent, — and 
preferably  a  young  and  enthusiastic  one — for  Beth  El's 
vacant  pulpit,  had  heard  the  youth  preach  his  farewell 
sermon  at  the  college  chapel.  Philip  was  never  self-con 
scious  in  the  pulpit,  and  the  committee,  to  a  man,  had  suc 
cumbed  instantly  to  his  eloquence  and  winning  sincerity. 
He  wanted,  above  all  things,  to  be  put  to  work.  In  Balti 
more,  the  representatives  of  the  Temple  told  him,  was 
a  field  where  his  talents  would  be  appreciated  as  they 
deserved.  It  was  the  opportunity  of  a  life  time.  His 
results  were  to  be  limited  only  by  his  own  qualities.  Here 
was  a  congregation,  wealthy,  old  and  comprising  among 
its  members  some  of  the  most  influential  men  in  an  impor 
tant,  interesting  city. 

He  forgot  all  else  in  his  joy  in  a  task  which  was  to 
prove  his  prowess,  and  with  never  a  doubt  of  success  in  his 
ministry,  he  had  flung  himself  upon  his  duties. 

Tonight,  however,  as  he  sat  in  the  place  of  honor  at 
26 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

this  his  first  dinner  party  in  Baltimore,  the  idea  was 
borne  in  upon  him  with  overpowering  weight  that  a 
minister's  activities  were  social  as  well  as  religious.  He 
was  among  the  men  and  women  who  were  to  be  his 
friends  and  associates  in  his  all-absorbing  work.  He  was 
here  this  evening  because  they  wanted  to  make  him  wel 
come, — to  be  kind  and  hospitable ;  yet  as  he  realized  how 
absurd  he  would  appear,  had  he  begun  to  talk  of  any  of 
the  things  which  seemed  to  him  worth  discussing,  he 
wished  with  all  his  might  he  had  found  some  excuse  for 
remaining  in  his  own  study.  He  possessed  none  of  the 
small  change  of  conversation,  and  apparently,  to  tender 
bills  of  larger  denominations  would  be  to  make  himself  a 
bit  ridiculous. 

Nevertheless,  no  matter  what  he  may  have  felt,  he 
emerged  rather  well  from  the  awkward  instant  preceding 
the  dinner,  when  introductions  and  formal  greetings  were 
exchanged.  His  well-bred  manner,  his  grave  courtesy, 
his  good  looks  and  youth  were  eloquent  in  his  favor — all 
the  more  because  he  had  not  yet  learned  to  reckon  upon 
them  as  assets. 

Even  gaunt,  forbidding-looking  David  Gordon,  with 
his  occasional  smile — terrifying  and  cynical — had  turned 
toward  the  new  Rabbi  a  glance  of  unconscious  approval. 
And  now,  seated  at  Mrs.  Frank's  beautifully  appointed 
table,  with  pretty  Ruth  Hartman  at  his  right,  and  Mrs. 
Frank,  herself,  at  the  head  of  the  table  just  next  to  him, 
he  was  aware  that,  so  far,  all  had  gone  fairly  well. 

There  had  been  a  minute  of  suspense  during  which 
Philip  wondered  whether  he  would  be  called  upon  to  ask 
a  blessing,  before  the  meal  was  served. 

The  young  minister  was  an  advocate  of  this  ceremony, 
27 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

— true  to  his  belief  in  linking  together  his  religious  faith 
with  each  and  every  happening  of  the  daily  round  of 
life — but  he  was  selfishly  pleased  to  find  it  was  not  the 
custom  in  the  Frank  household,  and  he  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief,  because  for  the  moment,  at  least,  he  need  do 
nothing  conspicuous. 

Dr.  Frank,  seated  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  smiled  his 
tolerant  smile  of  good-natured  amusement  as  he  noticed 
the  first  course  provided  by  his  wife.  She  had  ordered 
oysters  to  be  served, — perhaps,  as  thoroughly  character 
istic  of  Baltimore's  good  cheer.  The  surgeon  obtained  a 
secret  whimsical  joy  in  observing  these  dainties — ana 
thema  to  the  orthodox  Jew — being  consumed  contentedly 
by  every  one  of  the  guests,  including  the  new  Rabbi, — 
with  the  single  exception  of  David  Gordon,  who  flatly 
proclaimed  his  agnosticism,  but  would  not,  or  could  not, 
conquer  his  aversion  to  the  forbidden  food. 

Meanwhile,  Ruth,  with  half  unconscious  art,  was 
speedily  putting  the  bashful  Philip  at  ease,  by  talking  to 
him  in  low  tones  of  the  happiness  and  inspiration  she  had 
found  in  his  Atonement  Day  service.  His  diffidence  fell 
from  him  as  he  answered  eagerly  her  intelligent  questions 
about  his  studies  of  the  past,  and  his  plans  for  the  future. 

Just  opposite  Philip  sat  David  Gordon.  He  eyed  the 
younger  man  for  the  first  few  minutes  with  that  searching, 
intent  manner  which  had  often  preceded  his  famous  cross 
examinations.  He  gave  the  impression  of  being  able  and 
anxious  to  read  through  the  very  hearts  and  souls  of  men 
and  gloatingly  to  pluck  out  their  guilty  secrets.  Philip 
engrossed  with  Ruth,  was,  as  yet,  unaware  of  this  scrutiny, 
and  Elizabeth  Frank  was  a  sufficiently  experienced  hostess 

28 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

to  attempt  without  delay,  a  diversion  of  her  uncomfort 
able  guest's  interest. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Gordon,"  she  began,  "  I  ought  to  count 
myself  particularly  lucky  to  have  you  here  tonight.  It 
isn't  often  one  can  capture  two  lions  in  the  same  evening." 

The  supposed  lion  should,  by  all  the  rules,  have  purred 
gracefully,  but  his  answer  partook  much  more  of  the 
nature  of  a  polite  roar. 

His  tones  were  suave  enough,  and  his  manner  betrayed 
nothing  to  which  a  lady  might  take  definite  exception,  but 
he  retorted  quickly : 

"  You  are  too  flattering,  Mrs.  Frank.  I  am  an  ordi 
nary  barn-yard  animal.  I'm  no  lion.  Certainly  not,  if 
Dr.  Graetz  is  an  example  of  the  king  of  beasts." 

"  I'm  sure  you're  a  lion,"  she  answered,  mildly  dis 
pleased,  but  determined  to  punish  him  without  betraying 
any  consciousness  of  her  intention.  "  Everyone  tells  me 
you  are.  It  must  be  Dr.  Graetz  who  is  not  the  authentic 
animal.  Would  you  mind  informing  me  just  what  char 
acteristic  makes  you  the  sole  representative  of  lionship  at 
my  poor  board  ?  " 

He  saw  at  once  how  ridiculous  her  question  tended  to 
make  him  appear,  and  he  extricated  himself  as  best  he 
could  by  another  remark  of  almost  definite  rudeness. 

"  If  I've  any  claims  to  lionhood  among  this  group,"  he 
rapped  out,  "  it's  because  I  seem  to  be  the  only  specimen 
here  who  has  hunted  and  brought  down  all  his  own  prey 
since  he  was  a  cub." 

Elizabeth  was  silenced  for  an  instant.  He  had 
balked  her,  somehow,  in  her  design  of  making  him  absurd, 
but  he  had  done  it  at  the  expense  of  what  seemed  to  her, 
good  breeding.  It  was  not  "  nice  "  for  a  man.  to  gloat 

29 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

over  his  past  poverty,  or  his  present  riches,  and  she 
secretly  scored  another  black  mark  against  the  man  whom 
she  had  liked  not  too  well  at  the  beginning. 

He  smiled  at  her  suddenly,  and  seemed  anxious  to 
relieve  her  embarrassment. 

"  That  was  a  silly  thing  I  said,"  he  told  her  with  such 
apparent  sincerity  as  to  force  a  smile  from  her  in  return. 
"  It's  as  stupid  to  feel  proud  of  having  been  born  poor 
as  having  been  born  rich.  It's  absurd  to  be  proud  of 
being  born  at  all,  isn't  it?  So  many  people  seem  to  get 
born." 

"  Still,"  she  resumed,  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity, 
"  there  must  be  something  in  having  done  things  for  one's 
self." 

"  It  depends  altogether  how  well  they  manage  to  get 
done,  I  guess,"  the  lawyer  answered.  "  Sometimes,  a  self- 
made  man  is  really  lucky  in  having  had  only  one  bad 
teacher,  instead  of  two  dozen.  He  has  less  to  forget." 

They  were  silent  an  instant.  Then  David  Gordon  said : 
"  I  suppose  I  snapped  at  you  because  all  this  talk  of  lions 
seems  to  me  particularly  harmful.  You  charming  women 
make  men  do  things  so  that  afterward  they  may  come  to 
you  and  be  admired,  instead  of  doing  them  just  because 
they  feel  an  impulse  of  their  own.  Now,  there's  that  pleas 
ant  boy  of  a  Rabbi, — he  thinks  he  came  here  to  serve  what 
he  calls  God.  He  would,  too,  if  he  could  be  sentenced  to 
life  imprisonment  in  his  own  Temple.  But  in  ten  weeks 
he'll  be  serving  three  hundred  goddesses  instead  of  one 
God.  The  change  will  do  you  ladies  no  good,  and  will  do 
him  a  lot  of  harm." 

Elizabeth  was  once  more  antagonistic,  but  in  spite  of 
herself,  interested. 

SO 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  she  asked.  "  None  of  us 
wants  to  do  anything  which  may  injure  his  usefulness  and 
if  we  did,  how  could  we?  " 

"  How  can  you  help  it?  would  be  a  fairer  question." 
David  replied.  "  You  women  have  become  too  intelligent 
and  too  attractive  to  be  ignored.  You're  the  only  articu 
late  people  in  any  congregation.  The  men  don't  care  a  rap 
about  the  Rabbi  just  so  long  as  he  does  nothing  to  make 
them  uncomfortable.  How  often,  in  a  year,  does  your 
husband  go  to  Temple  ?  " 

"  Most  years,  once ;  some  years,  not  at  all,"  Elizabeth 
admitted.  "  But  Robert  is  an  unusually  busy  man 
and " 

"  We  all  are/'  the  lawyer  interrupted.  "  Our  tasks 
aren't  all  as  important  as  Dr.  Frank's,  or  as  well  done, 
perhaps ;  but  we're  all  busy.  Meanwhile,  you  ladies  aren't 
busy  at  all.  You  are  thirsting  for  something  to  do  which 
will  keep  you  interested.  So  lots  of  you  will  try  Religion, 
— particularly  now,  when  you  have  a  charming  young 
man  for  a  stimulus.  He'll  pose  to  please  you.  He'll 
become  feminized.  No  man  can  stand  that  process.  He'll 
lose  whatever  fighting  instinct  he  has,  and  then  he'll  be 
just  an  agreeable  manikin,  to  be  played  with  by  grown-up 
girl-children." 

Elizabeth  gave  vent  to  an  indignant  exclamation  of 
protest ;  but  David  Gordon  raised  one  hand  in  deprecation. 

"  Don't  get  angry,"  he  commanded,  good-humoredly. 
"  I  hope  I'm  wrong.  It  will  do  you  no  harm  to  be  warned 
of  his  danger  even  if  it  turns  out  to  have  been  exaggerated. 
But  you'll  see !  If  you  cast  your  eye  down  the  table  at  this 
very  instant,  you'll  see  Miss  Behrend,  whom  I've  been 
neglecting,  waiting,,  on  conversational  tip-toes,  for  an 

si 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

opportunity  to  ask  Dr.  Graetz  what  he  thinks  of  Balti 
more.  If  he  were  a  brute  like  me,  he'd  ask  in  return,  what 
in  the  name  of  all  the  devils  he  could  know  of  this  City 
after  living  here  two  weeks.  But  he'll  tell  her  it's  per 
fectly  lovely,  and  his  damnation  will  have  begun." 

Sure  enough,  at  the  next  pause  in  the  flow  of  words 
between  Ruth  and  Philip,  Rose  Behrend  asked  the  unlucky 
question,  though  in  a  slightly  less  hackneyed  form  than 
the  lawyer  had  predicted.  David  smiled  maliciously  at  his 
hostess,  as  Philip  began  his  reply. 

"  So  far,  everyone  has  been  amazingly  kind  to  me,"  he 
answered.  "  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  very  happy  here." 

It  was  Elizabeth's  turn  to  smile  triumphantly  at  David. 
Certainly,  the  Rabbi's  answer  had  not  been  as  puerile  as 
the  lawyer  had  prophesied. 

It  was  part  of  David's  equipment  as  a  lawyer,  and  a 
good  one,  to  lose  a  point,  now  and  then,  with  grace.  In 
his  gesture  and  smile,  he  rather  magnified  whatever  right 
Elizabeth  might  have  to  believe  her  young  champion  had 
falsified  his  own  prediction.  He  struck  into  the  general 
conversation  by  saying  pointedly : 

"  Bravo,  Dr.  Graetz!  I'm  glad  you're  too  wise  to  be 
betrayed  into  generalizing  from  your  first  impressions  of 
this  City.  On  the  surface,  it  seems  like  almost  any  other 
city — except  perhaps,  a  bit  less  excitable, — but  it  has  sur 
prises  in  store  for  you.  Baltimore  has  an  atmosphere  of 
its  own." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  atmosphere?  "  demanded  Mr. 
Kaufman's  deep,  harsh  voice.  "  I  think  this  town  is  just 
like  others  except,  as  you  say,  it's  deceptively  quiet.  We're 
curing  that,  though.  The  activity  is  really  here,  only,  up 

32 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

to  this  time,  we  haven't  had  sense  enough  to  talk  about  it, 
while  other  cities  have.    Our  business  has  suffered." 

David  looked  at  the  prosperous  merchant  with  a 
glimpse  of  contemptuous  pity  which  he  took  no  trouble 
to  conceal. 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  the  clearing  house  statistics,"  he 
announced  in  the  curt  tone  which  left  Mr.  Kaufman,  and 
his  wife  too,  vaguely  conscious  of  a  stinging  rebuke,  with 
out  knowing  just  why  it  was  merited. 

Dr.  Frank,  in  spite  of  a  secret  satisfaction  at  the  con 
versational  mishap  of  his  wife's  uncle,  felt  constrained,  as 
a  good  host,  to  come  to  his  rescue. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  remarked  genially,  "  Clarence  means 
the  business  situation  here,  to  be  taken  as  typical  of  other 
things.  Our  activities  in  science,  in  political  betterment, 
and  in  the  art  of  living  are  perhaps  more  intensive,  and  less 
openly  displayed  than  in  other  cities.  What  do  you  think, 
Arthur?" 

Arthur  Kahn,  who  prided  himself  on  being  at  one  and 
the  same  time  a  thorough  man  of  business  and  a  fastidious 
patron  of  all  the  cultured  arts,  replied  leisurely : 

"  We're  a  manufacturing  City  and  a  University  City 
at  the  same  time.  Our  lives  are  busy  ones  but  we  live 
them  under  the  shadow  of  the  Johns  Hopkins.  I  think 
that  is  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  our  City." 

The  Rabbi  looked  puzzled.  David  Gordon  smiled 
sarcastically. 

"Don't,"  he  urged  with  exaggerated  caution,  "accept 
any  of  their  tabloid  explanations.  After  you've  really 
sensed  the  intangible  atmosphere  of  this  town,  you  will 
know  better  than  to  attempt  to  define  it.  Baltimore  is 

3  33 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

like  a  well-loved  woman.  You  will  find  yourself  most  fas 
cinated  by  the  qualities  which  exasperate  you  most." 

"  Oh,"  called  Frieda  Stern,  from  her  end  of  the  table, 
"  such  a  knowing  thought  from  a  bachelor !  You  must 
have  revelations  to  make,  Mr.  Gordon,  about  well-loved 
women !  " 

"  The  more  reason,  then,  for  not  making  them,  Miss 
Stern,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  will  assure  you  of  one  fact — 
every  bachelor  knows  more  about  the  subject  than  any 
married  man.  He  can  afford  to  allow  his  imagination 
more  play." 

Philip  seemed  to  feel  some  duty  to  bring  back  the 
subject  to  its  starting  point. 

"  You  seem,  Mr.  Gordon,  to  have  very  definite  ideas 
about  the  City,"  he  ventured.  "  I  need  these  more,  just 
now,  than  theories  about  lovely  ladies,  but  you  say  I  can't 
get  them  second-hand.  How  long  must  one  live  here  to 
sense  its  mearijng?  You've  lived  here  all  your  life, 
haven't  you  ?  " 

"  No ! "  David  answered  bluntly,  and  as  though  he 
meant  nothing  less  than  a  deliberate  challenge,  "  I  was 
born  in  Russia." 

Mrs.  Frank  hastened  a  bit  too  patently  to  the  rescue  of 
what  she  feared  might  become  an  awkward  situation. 

"  But  you  are  virtually  a  native  of  Baltimore,"  she 
insisted  promptly,  with  an  insinuating  smile,  "you  came 
here  as  a  mere  child.  You're  not  able  to  remember  your 
birthplace,  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  be  able  to  remember  it  were  it  not  for  the 
kind  jogs  given  to  my  memory  by  my  friends  of  German 
descent,"  David  announced,  seeming  to  take  a  perverse 
pleasure  in  the  embarrassment  he  was  causing.  "  As  it  is, 

M 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

I  sometimes  find  it  difficult  to  remember  anything  else !  " 

For  a  full  minute  there  was  a  dead  silence.  Then  the 
offended  Elizabeth  turned  deliberately  to  Dr.  Graetz  and 
began  talking  to  him  in  a  low  tone  about  some  totally 
unrelated  subject.  The  conversation  broke  up  into  little 
eddies  and  scraps  of  talk,  among  pairs  and  trios,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  dinner  was  almost  finished  that  another 
remark  was  tossed  across  the  table.  It  was  the  irre 
pressible  lawyer,  who,  once  more,  returned  to  the  charge. 

"  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  said,  "  I've  been  letting  my  thoughts 
play  with  the  idea  you  expressed  a  few  minutes  ago  about 
feeling  sure  you'll  be  happy  here.  I  rather  hope  you'll 
think  better  of  that  wish,  because  if  you're  going  to  do 
good  work  in  Baltimore,  you  are  going  to  be  made  miser 
ably  unhappy.  I'm  serious  in  wondering  which  of  the 
two  paths  you'll  choose." 

The  two  men  faced  each  other  earnestly,  while  Eliza 
beth  nervously  waited  for  the  coming  of  another  storm. 

The  Rabbi  responded  gallantly  to  the  lawyer's 
challenge. 

"  If  I  must  decide  between  duty  and  happiness,  I  hope 
you  will  have  no  doubts  as  to  my  decision.  When  I  said 
'  happiness  '  I  wasn't  thinking  of  mere  pleasure.  Why  do 
you  believe  I  can't  have  both  ?  " 

"  It  depends  on  your  idea  of  work,"  David  answered. 
"  What  do  you  want  to  do  here  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Graetz  told  us  that  very  beautifully  on  Atone 
ment  Day,"  Mrs.  Frank  said,  foreseeing  the  outbreak  of 
an  uncomfortable  religious  discussion,  and  determined  to 
avert  it  at  every  possible  hazard. 

But  Philip  was  definitely  interested,  and  had  no  wish 
to  take  refuge  behind  any  woman's  petticoat. 

35 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  I  want,"  he  stated,  "  to  translate  our  ideals  of  ethics 
and  spirituality  into  the  conduct  of  daily  life." 

"Of  men  as  well  as  women?"  asked  David  crisply, 
and  irritatingly. 

"  Of  men  as  well  as  women,"  Philip  repeated,  firmly. 

"  Well,  that's  a  dangerous  programme,"  was  the  law 
yer's  comment,  "  unless  you  are  going  to  emasculate  it. 
If  you  mean  to  urge  husbands  and  wives  to  be  reasonably 
kind  to  each  other  and  to  the  children,  and  neither  to 
steal,  nor  kill, — you'll  be  safe  enough.  Most  of  us  live  up 
to  those  ideals  now.  If  you  mean  justice  between  man  and 
man — down  town,  as  well  as  up  town — in  less  than  a 
year,  you'll  wish  yourself  dead." 

"  I  mean  just  that,"  affirmed  Philip,  his  exaltation  seiz 
ing  him  in  its  grasp.  "  I  shall  mean  nothing  less  no 
matter  what  happens." 

"  Then  you  have  my  intense  admiration — and  condo 
lences,"  announced  David.  "  You  belong  to  the  race  of 
martyrs." 

"  So  does  every  Jew,"  replied  the  Rabbi,  with  quiet 
dignity.     "  I  won't  shirk  my  share." 
\  "  You  won't  be  allowed  to,"  asserted  David  with  cheer 
ful  '  confidence.     "  Your  own  congregation  will  arrange 
your  torments." 

By  this  time,  Mr.  Kaufman,  still  smarting  under  the 
wound  sustained  by  him  during  the  earlier  minutes  of  the 
dinner,  felt  called  upon  as  President  of  Beth  El,  to  repel 
the  attack  made  by  this  presumptuous  alien. 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  announced  patronizingly, 
"  you  must  not  permit  yourself  to  be  alarmed  by  Mr.  Gor 
don — who  has  never,  I  believe,  been  a  member  of  our  con 
gregation,  or  of  any  other,  for  that  matter.  You  shall 

36 


THE  FEEDING  OP  LIONS 

have  our  earnest  support.  We  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
making  martyrs  of  our  Rabbis." 

"  You  have  never  had  one  who  made  you  take  him 
with  enough  seriousness,"  was  David's  manner  of  tossing 
Kaufman  aside.  "  When  he  begins  to  interfere  with  your 
business,  you'll  cultivate  the  habit." 

Arthur  Kahn,  at  this  point,  apparently  convinced  that 
Respectability  needed  a  younger  and  more  virile  cham 
pion,  took  up  the  gage. 

"  I  presume,  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  said  superciliously,  "  it 
is  hardly  Dr.  Graetz's  intention  to  drag  his  religion 
through  the  mire  of  business  and  politics." 

"  You  do  find  them  pretty  dirty,  then,  I  take  it  ?  "  asked 
the  lawyer  blandly. 

The  young  Rabbi  felt  that  should  the  discussion 
become  dissipated  in  trivialities  or  personalities,  his  silence 
might  appear  to  have  committed  him  to  a  course  of  inac 
tion  foreign  to  his  beliefs.  He  therefore  gently  inter 
posed  his  own  idea. 

"If  you  will  pardon  me  for  interrupting,"  he  said, (( my 
position  seems  to  me  very  simple.  I  have  no  desire  to 
intrude  my  own  views  regarding  business  or  politics  upon 
my  congregation,  except  where  I  find  a  clean-cut  question 
of  moral  right  and  wrong.  On  such  issues,  I  shall  cer 
tainly  expect  to  take  a  definite  stand — and  a  vigorous  one." 

The  ladies  beamed  upon  their  courageous  young  min 
ister,  but  David  Gordon  still  frowned  dangerously. 

"  Questions  of  right  and  wrong  are  subtle,"  he  argued. 
"  My  right  is  your  wrong.  When  you  try  to  force  your 
own  theories  on  others,  your  ordeal  will  begin." 

"  You  forget,"  was  Arthur  Kahn's  comment,  "  the  fac 
tor  of  personality.  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  continued,  with 

87 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

pointed  emphasis,  "  fortunately  is  not  altogether  devoid  of 
tact.  He  will  be  able  to  say  and  do  things  which  certain 
other  people  could  venture  only  at  the  risk  of  riot." 

The  lawyer  who  should  have  been  completely  over 
whelmed,  merely  laughed. 

"  Tact,"  he  repeated,  "  we  do  find  it  a  great  help  some 
times,  don't  we,  Mr.  Kahn?  Now,  let's  see.  You  stand, 
Dr.  Graetz,  for  spiritual  values — particularly  Jewish  ones 
— even  in  business,  but  like  Mr.  Kahn,  you  will  cultivate 
a  tender  regard  for  tact.  Let's  see  how  it  works  out. 
Mr.  Kaufman  is  engaged,  on  a  huge  scale,  in  making  gar 
ments.  He's  a  Jew  and  a  member  of  your  congregation. 
The  bulk  of  his  laborers  are  likewise  Jews,  although  they 
have  not  the  inestimable  advantage  of  being  members  of 
Beth  El  Temple.  Still,  the  relation  between  employing 
Jews  and  laboring  Jews  is  a  field  where  one  might  expect 
to  bring  Jewish  idealism  to  bear,  isn't  it?  " 

Everyone  at  the  table  except  the  Rabbi  seemed  to  feel 
a  sense  of  tension.  But  Dr.  Graetz  answered  without  an 
instant's  uneasiness : 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"  Well  then,"  the  lawyer  resumed,  "  let  us  suppose 
a  struggle  to  arise  between  these  two  classes  of  your  fel 
low  Jews.  Suppose  the  usual  pleasant  details — sullen  men 
on  the  verge  of  violence,  starved  women,  dying  babies. 
And  suppose,  in  addition,  the  almost  impossible :  Imagine 
Mr.  Kaufman  and  his  partners  to  be  in  the  wrong — a 
thing,  I  take  it,  which  has  never  occurred  in  the  past,  and 
is  extremely  unlikely  to  occur  in  the  future.  Still,  it's 
possible.  How  will  your  tact  help  you  ?  " 

Even  Dr.  Frank,  who  delighted  in  seeing  his  wife's 
smug  family  made  vaguely  uncomfortable,  felt  things  had 

38 


THE  FEEDING  OF  LIONS 

gone  too  far,  particularly  now,  since  this  innocent  young 
man  had  become  involved,  but  before  he  could  come  to  the 
rescue,  Ruth  anticipated  him. 

l<  Now,  Mr.  Gordon,"  the  young  girl  exclaimed,  with  a 
hint  of  generous  indignation  in  her  voice,  "  you  must  real 
ize  what  an  unfair  thing  it  is  to  expect  a  stranger  in  our 
City  to  say,  off-hand,  just  what  he  would  do  under  such 
trying  conditions !  " 

"  Ruth's  right,"  Dr.  Frank  added,  more  smoothly. 
"  You're  asking  what  I  think  you  lawyers  would  call  a 
hypothetical  question,  of  a  man  who  hasn't  had  time  to 
make  himself  an  expert." 

Dr.  Graetz,  once  more,  refused  to  be  extricated  from 
his  dilemma. 

"  I  do  not  wish,"  he  began  with  an  appealing  sincerity, 
"  to  evade  Mr.  Gordon's  question.  It's  true  I  don't  know 
the  local  conditions,  but  I  do  know  what  I  conceive  to  be 
my  own  duty.  If  I  believed  Mr.  Kaufman's  position  to  be 
unethical,  I  should  go  to  him  frankly  and  explain  just 
where  I  thought  he  was  in  error.  I  should  be  perfectly 
sure  he  would  be  as  anxious  to  do  what  is  right  as  I  would 
be  to  have  him  do  it.  If  I  were  misinformed,  he  would 
convince  me.  If  he  were  in  the  wrong,  I  should  be  able 
to  make  him  understand  why  he  ought  to  change  his 
course,  because  he'd  know  I  wanted  absolutely  nothing  but 
simple  justice." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  David  was  about  to 
retort  with  some  sarcasm,  but  looking  into  Philip's  flushed, 
earnest  face,  he  seemed  to  think  better  of  it,  and  said 
nothing.  Finally,  Mr.  Kaufman,  touched  by  the  young 
Rabbi's  boyish  faith  in  all  human  goodness,  said  heartily : 

"  You  would  be  quite  right,  Dr.  Graetz.  If  you  came 
39 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

to  me,  I'd  meet  you  in  just  your  own  spirit.  We  all  want 
to  be  fair.  To  be  anything  else  would  not  only  be  doing 
wrong — it  would  be  bad  business  policy,  besides." 

The  Rabbi  smiled  at  him  confidingly.  But  the  lawyer 
and  the  surgeon  exchanged  a  smile  of  a  somewhat  less 
innocent  quality. 

Just  then,  Elizabeth,  breathing  a  sigh  of  relief  because 
this  uncomfortable  dinner  was,  at  last,  ended,  rose  and  led 
the  way  to  the  living-room.  Often  she  had  indulged 
vague  intentions  of  inaugurating  in  her  home  the  custom 
of  leaving  the  men  at  the  table,  to  follow  the  women 
after  a  discreet  interval.  She  had  never  done  so  because 
she  knew  and  feared  the  opinion  of  those  of  her  dear 
friends  who  would  view  her  innovation  as  an  evidence  of 
sheer  affectation.  Tonight  she  congratulated  herself  on 
her  informality.  What  would  have  become  of  these  men, 
without  the  restraining  influence  of  gentle  woman,  was  a 
problem  upon  which  she  could  not  dwell  without  horror. 


CHAPTER  IV, 
POST-PRANDIAL 

CONVERSATION  is  always  a  dangerous  pastime,  except 
among  people  whose  mental  equipment  qualifies  them  to 
talk  glibly,  without  saying  anything.  Elizabeth  had  no 
such  confidence  in  her  guests  tonight.  Yet  the  polite 
fiction  that  men  and  women  meet  to  exchange  ideas  is  one 
which  cannot  be  too  blithely  ignored.  Had  Elizabeth's 
dinner  party  occurred  twenty-five  years  earlier,  the  men 
would  have  retired  to  some  convenient  card  room  to  forget 
all  irritating  abstractions  in  "  pinochle,"  while  the  de 
serted  women  would  have  solaced  their  loneliness  with 
amiable  chatter  about  domestic  mishaps.  In  this  enlight 
ened  year,  1915,  however,  such  childish  solutions  were 
no  longer  feasible.  'None  of  the  men  present  played  cards 
at  all,  except  Mr.  Kaufman,  who  would  have  found  the 
stakes  and  conditions  of  play,  in  this  home,  absolutely 
uninteresting,  even  could  he  have  been  provided  with 
companions. 

Still,  these  unruly  males  must  not  be  allowed  to  drift 
once  more  into  unlicensed  talk.  In  this  dilemma,  Eliza 
beth's  quick  wit  contrived  the  expedient  of  ending  the 
evening  by  an  appeal  to  music — not  so  much  because  of 
the  traditional  power  of  melody  to  bring  peace  to  ruffled 
souls,  but  because  well-bred  men  and  women  (or  even 
moderately  ill-bred  ones)  cannot  possibly  commit  the 
crime  of  speech  while  someone  else  is  singing.  And  this 
is  true,  no  matter  how  bad  the  music  may  be,  or  how  witty 
the  phrase  which  trembles  tantalizingly  upon  one's  own 

41 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

lips.  Besides,  Ruth's  singing  was  by  no  means  bad.  She 
sang,  as  she  did  everything,  not  remarkably  well,  not  with 
any  originality,  but  gracefully  and  acceptably.  Her  voice 
was  not  one  of  great  volume,  and  now  and  then  her  method 
showed  traces  of  a  sad  laxness  of  discipline,  but  on  the 
other  hand,  she  chose  simple  ballads  which  were  not  cal 
culated  to  over-emphasize  her  defects. 

Above  all,  she  looked  amazingly  pretty  as  she  sang, 
a  fact  of  which  she  was  not  entirely  unaware,  and  of  which 
the  more  experienced  Elizabeth  was  still  more  definitely 
informed. 

Therefore,  the  remainder  of  the  evening  passed  plac 
idly  enough.  None  of  the  group — not  even  David  Gordon 
— was  without  some  measure  of  that  ardent  love  of 
music  which  is  part  of  the  Jewish  heritage,  and  the 
sight  of  a  pretty  girl  singing  just  such  songs  as  could  be 
lazily  enjoyed  without  the  faintest  mental  effort,  brought  a 
pleasing  sense  of  contentment. 

On  the  whole,  Elizabeth,  as  she  dismissed  her  guests, 
was  not  altogether  displeased  with  the  result  of  her  eve 
ning.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  Philip  had  gone  away 
steeped  with  pleasant  recollections  of  his  hostess'  charm 
ing  young  sister,  whose  kindness  and  beauty  of  face  and 
voice,  he  would  not  soon  forget.  After  all,  the  rest  didn't 
much  matter. 

To  her  husband's  hurried  question,  asked  as  he  made 
ready  to  drive  to  the  hospital: 

"  Well,  didn't  I  behave  like  a  pattern  host  out  of  the 
Ladies'  Home  Journal?  "  she  had  responded  with  a  laugh 
and  a  good-night  kiss,  and  sent  him  off  without  reproaches 
to  do  his  "  bit  of  surgery  "  as  he  had  put  it. 

As  for  David  Gordon,  it  did  not  occur  to  her  to  im- 
42 


POST-PRANDIAL 

agine  what  his  impressions  of  the  evening  had  been,  and 
had  she  known,  she  would  have  cared  very  little. 

After  declining  Dr.  Frank's  hearty  invitation  to  drive 
him  to  his  home  (which  he  could  easily  pass  on  his  route 
to  the  Hospital)  David  walked  briskly  down  the  tree-lined 
length  of  Eutaw  Place,  in  the  crisp  Autumn  night,  won 
dering  if  he,  too,  would  have  become  smug  and  compla 
cent  if  his  life  had  been  cast  among  these  dainty  creatures 
who  steadfastly  turned  their  eyes  away  from  all  repulsive 
things.  There  was  Ruth,  of  course ; — she  was  still  young ; 
she  had  possibilities ;  she  and  her  position  could  be  made 
useful,  too;  but  a  life  time  full  of  artificialities  was 
something  of  a  price  to  pay  for  anything  existence  could 
offer.  In  the  midst  of  the  reverie,  he  found  himself 
directly  opposite  Temple  Beth  El,  its  stately  white  lines 
standing  out  clear  and  utterly  cold  in  the  moonlight.  How 
amazingly  incongruous  its  classic  beauty  and  simplicity  of 
design  seemed  to  the  life  of  these  men  and  women,  who, 
casting  aside  their  own  racial  genius  and  artistic  cravings, 
had  hired  some  Christian  architect  to  fashion  his  alien 
dream  into  the  marble  they  had  bought.  How  like  a 
mausoleum  it  appeared  in  its  deserted  grandeur!  Could 
the  religious  impulse  buried  in  this  tomb  be  quickened 
again  to  life,  even  by  the  ardent  enthusiasm  of  a  Philip 
Graetz?  A  Graetz,  confronted  and  hemmed  in,  ever  and 
always,  by  a  score  of  Clarence  Kaufmans,  waiting  at 
every  turn  to  translate  generous  poetry  into  the  deadly 
prose  of  practicability?  Then,  there  flashed  into  David's 
mind  the  idea  of  a  Herculean  statue  of  Clarence  Kauf 
man,  dominating  the  great  portico  of  the  synagogue.  He 
almost  saw  it  there,  in  the  shadow,  gross,  insistent,  earthy, 
and  irresistibly  menacing.  He  laughed  aloud  at  his  whim 
sical  fantasy  and  hurried  on. 

43 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

ONE  of  the  most  mysterious  causes  for  speculation  in 
a  world  not  too  intelligible  at  the  best,  lies  in  wondering 
how  a  fashion  suddenly  arises  in  a  community,  and  like 
the  Pied  Piper,  leads  an  entire  population  of  grown-up 
children  joyously  dancing  in  its  train. 

The  Pied  Piper  himself  (if  he  had  been  truthful  enough 
to  admit  it)  was  no  doubt  somewhat  puzzled  by  his  spec 
tacular  popularity,  and  maybe  indulged  more  than  one 
secret  misgiving  regarding  the  next  tune  he  would  choose 
to  pipe  when  his  youthful  audience  should  at  last  find 
itself  slightly  bored  by  his  unconventional  quickstep. 

During  the  few  months  following  Mrs.  Frank's  dinner, 
Philip  Graetz  without  knowing  just  why  or  how,  became 
something  of  a  fashion.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  invi 
tations  to  dinners,  luncheons  and  teas.  He  was  feted 
whenever  he  could  produce  no  legitimate  excuse,  and  upon 
every  conceivable  occasion,  he  was  forced  to  deliver  an 
address.  He  found  himself  talking  almost  without  cessa 
tion.  Women's  Clubs,  Amateur  Societies  for  the  cure 
of  all  Social  ills,  Students'  Leagues,  Bible  Study  Classes — 
all  these  and  many  more  claimed  the  privilege  of  listen 
ing  to  this  tall,  dark  youth  with  the  flashing  eyes  and 
rich  vibrant  voice,  who  had  a  trick  of  making  all  women 
and  many  men  suspect  the  existence  in  themselves  of 
some  vague  thing  which  he  called  spirituality. 

Nor  was  this  enthusiasm  confined  altogether  to  mem 
bers  of  Philip's  own  race.  He  was  constantly  receiving 

44 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

and  accepting  invitations  to  talk  before  groups  composed 
partly  or  completely  of  non-Jews,  and  his  reception  at 
such  times  was  no  less  hearty  and  inspiring  than  among 
his  brothers  in  the  faith.  For  all  that,  the  young  Rabbi 
did  not  fail  to  perceive,  without  much  effort,  how  rigidly 
his  intercourse  with  Gentiles  was  restricted  to  activities 
occurring  elsewhere  than  in  their  own  homes.  When  he 
lunched  down  town,  he  was  deluged  with  the  cordiality 
and  good  fellowship  of  Protestants  and  Catholics,  as  well 
as  Jews.  A  few  non-Jews  of  a  more  skeptical  tendency 
than  his  own  mind  approved,  found  him  well  worth  while, 
and  sought  permission  to  visit  the  modest  bachelor  quar 
ters  he  had  established  in  a  quiet  hotel  near  his  Tem 
ple  ;  but  neither  Protestant,  Catholic  nor  Agnostic  asked 
him  to  dine  with  his  wife  and  daughters.  He  received  in 
vitations  to  exchange  pulpits  with  Christian  ministers  but 
not  to  exchange  visits  among  their  families.  They  found 
it  necessary,  apparently,  to  maintain  an  exclusiveness  in 
their  own  homes  which  could  safely  be  dispensed  with,  in 
the  House  of  God.  Philip  was  not  hurt  at  these  mild 
manifestations  of  a  social  exclusion.  He  accepted  them 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  like  many  another  man  who  has 
had  much  less  encouragement  went  steadily  on  talking. 
He  did  it  exceedingly  well,  and  had  he  not  had  a  fair 
appreciation  of  that  agreeable  fact  to  begin  with,  he  must 
have  come  to  discover  it,  without  delay.  Everyone,  Jew 
and  Gentile,  told  him  how  inspiring  he  was ;  how  eloquent ; 
hovv  purposeful  he  made  life  seem.  The  ladies  told  him 
this  with  much  more  wealth  of  detail  than  the  men,  which 
was  an  economic  waste,  because  at  twenty-four  (and  for 
an  indefinite  period  thereafter)  a  man  invariably  finds  one 
word  of  feminine  praise  worth  a  score  of  compliments  of 

45 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

prosaic  masculine  origin.  Philip,  however,  was  lucky  or 
unlucky  enough  to  have  both  varieties  from  which  to 
choose. 

Altogether  he  kept  his  poise  surprisingly  well — all  the 
better  perhaps  because,  now  and  then,  he  was  troubled  by 
some  dim  suspicion  that  he  was  being  acclaimed  much, 
but  followed  little,  if  at  all.  At  most  times  he  suc 
ceeded  in  pushing  these  doubts  aside  by  reminding  himself 
that  he  stood  at  the  very  threshold  of  his  ministry  and 
that  the  task  he  had  set  himself  was  one  which  would  cer 
tainly  demand  a  life  time  of  endeavor.  Meanwhile,  he 
went  on  drifting  comfortably  with  the  rapid  current  of 
petty  events,  tending  without  knowing  it  to  become  just 
a  little  more  disposed  to  accept  his  parishioners'  flattering 
views  of  himself ;  just  a  trifle  more  complacent,  and  ready 
to  fit  himself  into  the  niche  which  was  waiting  expect 
antly  for  him. 

His  congregation  had  never  a  doubt  regarding  his  well- 
regulated  and  respectable  future.  In  the  natural  course 
of  events  he  would  cease  to  be  a  novel  figure  in  the  life  of 
Baltimore's  Jewish  community,  but  he  would  lose  none  of 
his  prominence.  He  would  be  asked  to  talk  less  often,  but 
his  influence  would  be  stronger  because  of  his  ever-widen 
ing  circle  of  personal  friendships.  He  would  find  time 
for  some  leisurely  seminary  work  in  the  Semitic  depart 
ment  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University,  and  would  ulti 
mately  be  awarded  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy 
without  having  neglected  in  its  pursuit  any  of  his  minis 
terial  duties.  He  would  affiliate  himself,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  with  the  proper  number  of  organizations  for  Social 
and  Civic  Betterment.  He  had  already  accepted  member 
ship  upon  the  Board  of  Directors  of  the  Jewish  Charity 

46 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

Organization  Society.  He  would  lead  a  useful,  untrou 
bled  life  of  pleasant  routine — and  above  all  things  he  must, 
of  necessity,  and  without  undue  delay,  marry  and  estab 
lish  a  hearth  and  home  of  his  own. 

Perhaps  many  of  the  fair  communicants  of  Beth  El 
gave  to  this  phase  of  their  Rabbi's  career  far  more  earnest 
thought  than  they  were  able  to  bestow  upon  his  plans  for 
spiritualizing  the  City's  commerce  and  social  life.  The 
religious  cravings  of  more  than  one  devout  maiden  might 
have  been  translated  by  a  brutal  masculine  spectator  into 
terms  of  indefinite  dreams  regarding  a  handsome,  thought 
ful  youth,  with  graceful  manners  and  a  startling  gift  for 
sympathizing  with  all  one's  woes  and  hopes.  True,  this 
sympathy  was  secretly  voted  to  be  a  shade  too  indiscrim 
inate.  Judith  would  have  appreciated  it  far  more  had 
not  Miriam,  Eve  and  Jessica — to  say  nothing,  alas,  of  Max 
and  Joseph — tasted  also  of  its  soothing  qualities.  It  was 
commendable  enough  to  love  all  mankind,  but  applied  to 
womankind  as  well,  too  much  of  virtue  seemed  little  less 
exasperating  than  a  vice ;  all  the  more  of  a  vice,  because  it 
was  a  thing  to  which  one  was  forced  in  mere  decency, 
to  give,  in  public,  an  apparent  approval.  There  was 
no  end  of  conjecture  expended  upon  this  seemingly 
inevitable  event  in  Philip's  life.  Not  a  few  of  the  fair 
prophetesses  who  purported  to  speak  with  authority  found 
their  calm,  judicial  judgment  somewhat  warped  by  an  un 
controllable  desire  to  shape,  as  well  as  to  foretell,  the 
course  of  coming  events,  and  in  more  than  one  case  there 
was  a  definite  belief  in  the  utter  futility  of  faith  without 
works ;  but  in  the  opinion  of  most  observers  who  had  no 
personal  hopes  or  fears  to  color  their  decision,  it  was 
agreed  that  Ruth  Hartman  would  sooner  or  later  become 

47 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

the  minister's  wife.  It  would  be  such  a  suitable  union! 
She  was  pretty ;  she  was  young  and  her  income  was  amaz 
ingly  huge.  There  were  few  girls  who  worshipped  at  Beth 
El  who  were  not  fairly  wealthy,  but  Ruth  was  unique  in 
being,  at  the  same  time,  unusually  rich  and  without  any 
living  parent  to  exercise  uncomfortable  veto  powers  upon 
a  girl's  freedom  of  action.  It  was  easy  to  see  how  much 
of  an  impression  she  had  made  upon  Philip.  When  he 
found  himself  with  rare  evenings  to  spend  as  he  chose,  he 
usually  drifted  to  her  home,  and  she,  for  her  part,  had 
no  scruples  about  capriciously  breaking  whatever  engage 
ments  she  might  have  accepted,  to  fit  Philip's  unpremedi 
tated  plans. 

She  had  found  Arthur  Kahn  much  more  than  endur 
able,  because,  supercilious  and  impressed  as  he  was  with 
his  own  supreme  importance,  he  was  pliant  in  her  hands ; 
she  had  been  keenly  interested  in  Gordon, — partly  because 
he  seemed  resolutely  determined  to  be  betrayed  into  no 
entangling  alliance  with  a  girl  of  another  and  a  hostile 
class,  and  partly  because  she  knew  he  was  for  her  a  for 
bidden  creature,  who  might  with  much  art  be  forced, 
against  his  will,  to  play  a  sour,  cynical,  yet  intellectual, 
Romeo  to  her  highly  decorative  Juliet.  There  were  •many 
other  men,  besides,  who  had  hovered  about  this  rather 
spoiled  young  Ruth  and  from  among1  whom  she  had 
intended,  in  her  own  good  time,  to  choose,  at  last,  a  fortun 
ate  and  obedient  mate.  But  Philip,  from  their  first  meet 
ing,  seemed  to  her  to  be  made  of  other  stuff  than  the  clay 
of  which  the  men  she  knew  were  molded.  He  was 
totally  oblivious  of  all  considerations  of  money,  and  that 
she  liked  tremendously,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  girl  who 
has  never  known  the  logical  consequences  of  poverty,  and 

48 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

who  had  been  too  well  warned  regarding  the  attractive 
qualities  of  her  own  dowry.  He  refused  to  accept  with 
seriousness  her  little  qualities  of  selfishness  and  lack  of 
consideration  for  others.  He  neither  defied  her  imper- 
iousness  as  David  Gordon  had  done,  nor  obeyed  her 
whims  as  Arthur  Kahn  still  did.  He  assumed  with  a 
smile,  her  intense  desire  to  do,  think  and  say  the  sweet 
and  lovable  thing  which  must  be  characteristic  of  herself. 
Sometimes  she  almost  became  what  she  believed  he 
thought  her,  and  whenever  this  occurred  Ruth  felt  more 
tenderly  toward  her  spiritual  guide.  A  gracious  lady  owes 
no  small  debt  of  gratitude  to  any  man  who  can  cause  her, 
without  the  slightest  discomfort  to  herself,  or  the  sacrifice 
of  a  single  one  of  the  pleasant  things  of  life,  to  feel  nobler, 
purer  and  stronger.  Ruth  showed  no  unwillingness  to 
pay  her  debt. 

He  was  fortunate,  also,  in  being  too  busy  to  be  ever 
at  her  beck  and  call.  She  could  never  be  perfectly  sure 
he  would  appear  when  he  had  promised,  though  he  never 
failed  to  send  some  message  telling  of  a  claim  upon  him 
which  he  had  been  forced  to  obey  "  knowing  she  would 
have  been  disgusted  with  him  had  he  shirked  his  duty,  even 
to  be  with  her."  It  gave  a  tinge  of  uncertainty  to  what 
ever  hold  upon  him  she  possessed ;  and,  again,  of  neces 
sity,  there  were  scores  of  other  women — attractive  ones 
too — with  whom  in  the  very  nature  of  things  his  relations 
must  be  constant  and  intimate.  The  much-wooed  Ruth 
was  more  than  once  as  near  the  verge  of  jealousy  as  a 
well-bred,  college-schooled  maid  can  permit  herself  to 
wander,  and  always  and  most  irritatingly,  without  the 
shadow  of  a  plausible  excuse  in  Philip's  conduct. 

She  found  herself  thinking  about  him,  more  often  than 
4  49 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

she  cared  to  admit.  She  could  not  but  notice  how  well 
the  two  of  them  looked  together;  she  found  a  real  pleas' 
ure  in  observing  how  much  more  interestingly  he  talked 
than  most  of  her  other  acquaintances;  how  much  more 
enthusiasm  he  possessed ;  how  clean  and  wholesome  were 
his  thoughts, — often  impracticable,  certainly,  but  all  the 
more  boyishly  charming,  she  told  herself,  with  that  mature 
wisdom  upon  which  very  young  girls  always  pride  them 
selves  until  their  years  actually  justify  its  possession. 

Perhaps  he  appealed  to  her  most  strongly  because  she 
knew  there  was  something  fine  and  precious  in  him  which 
she  would  never  understand.  For  Ruth,  deep  below  the 
habits  of  thought  and  action  which  were  born  of  much 
wealth  and  little  discipline,  loved  without  knowing  just 
why,  what  seemed  to  her  beauty  of  character,  no  less  than 
she  loved  beauty  of  line  and  color. 

Had  he  asked  her  to  marry  him  during  those  first 
months  of  his  ministry  she  might  have  pretended  to  weigh 
the  question  gravely,  but  there  would  have  been  no  doubt 
of  her  favorable  reply.  Week  after  week  went  by,  how 
ever,  and  still  he  did  not  speak  to  her  of  marriage.  Each 
of  them  seemed  to  find  a  genuine  pleasure  in  the  other's 
presence.  Each  made  opportunities  for  as  many  meetings 
as  could  be  arranged  by  these  much-sought  young  people. 
Sometimes,  on  late  afternoons  they  strolled  slowly 
through  the  Park — forgetting  to  notice  its  austere  De 
cember  beauty  as  they  exchanged  confidences  upon  the 
myriad  subjects  which  lose  their  importance  for  us  as  we 
become  older  and  wiser,  and  color-blind  to  the  delicate 
shades  of  self -revelation  possible  only  to  Youth. 

Sometimes  she  drove  him  far  into  the  Green  Spring 
Valley,  or  into  the  Hills  of  Howard  in  the  trim  little  motor 

50 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

car  she  prided  herself  upon  managing  better  than  any 
mere  man  could  do.  These  fragmentary  excursions  were 
supposedly  to  exhibit  to  Philip  something  of  the  charms 
of  Maryland,  but  the  attractions  of  his  dainty  guide  com 
pletely  obscured  those  of  the  country-side,  and  Ruth  was 
far  too  intelligent  to  have  anticipated  any  other  result. 
When  the  musical  season  began,  she  persuaded  him  to 
become  her  guest  at  the  series  of  concerts  given  by  the 
Boston  Symphony  Orchestra  and  though  her  box  seated 
six  persons  with  comfort,  she  constantly  neglected  to  issue 
ottier  invitations,  or  if  she  did  remember,  her  guests  by 
some  strange  fatality,  always  failed  her  at  the  last  minute. 
She  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  she  was  causing 
their  names  to  be  coupled  together  in  the  gossip  of  the 
huge  whisper  gallery  of  the  Jewish  community.  She  did 
not  care.  He,  being  only  a  man,  and  one  not  yet  accus 
tomed  to  the  peculiar  qualities  of  Baltimore's  echoes,  was 
less  keenly  conscious  than  she  of  the  construction  which 
would,  perforce,  be  placed  upon  their  companionship; 
nevertheless,  his  thoughts  on  the  subject  were  far  more 
troubled  than  hers.  For  unlike  all  heroes  of  romance 
(though  perhaps  the  phenomenon  is  more  common  in  daily 
life)  Philip  was  not  perfectly  sure  he  wanted  to  marry 
Ruth.  He  could  not  have  told  why.  He  found  her  charm 
ing  to  talk  with,  a  delight  to  his  sensitive  love  of  beauty, 
and  quick  to  understand  and  appreciate  his  enthusiasms 
and  hopes.  But  while  he  was  always  glad  to  be  with 
her  it  did  not  cause  him  an  iota  of  unhappiness  to  be 
separated  from  her,  and  this  circumstance  awoke  in  him  a 
definite  uneasiness.  He  had  never  before  had  much  time 
for  girls,  and  his  views  regarding-  love  and  marriage  were 
mostly  borrowed  from  books.  He  had  read  what  the 

51 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Divine  Passion  ought  to  do  to  a  man,  and  as  he  scanned 
himself  he  failed  to  identify  the  classical  symptoms.  It 
would  be  pleasant  to  marry  Ruth,  certainly,  but  he  felt 
constrained  to  admit  that  should  she  fling  herself  into  the 
arms  of  another,  he  would  not  find  life  the  empty,  mocking 
void  conventional  under  the  circumstances.  He  would 
still  remain  intensely  interested  in  his  own  work  and  his 
own  plans.  This  was  not  the  fine,  all-satisfying  rapture 
of  which  he  frequently  spoke  when  he  was  called  upon 
to  officiate  at  marriage  ceremonies,  bringing  by  his  words 
deep  thrills  to  the  imagination  of  brides,  and  a  sense  of 
bewilderment  to  less  introspective  grooms. 

Therefore,  in  his  own  case,  he  was  willing  to  let  the 
weeks  glide  into  months  while  he  awaited  some  stronger 
urge  than  he  had  hitherto  experienced.  Nor  was  Ruth 
sorryibecause  of  his  delay.  She  found  this  stage  of  some 
thing  more  than  friendship,  inexpressibly  sweet.  It  must, 
of  course,  transform  itself,  before  long,  into  the  definite- 
ness  of  a  betrothal.  Meanwhile,  its  very  illusiveness  lent 
it  charm. 

Ruth's  sister,  Elizabeth,  however,  failed  to  share  the 
girl's  contented  patience.  She  desired  this  marriage 
keenly,  not  as  her  husband  pretended  to  believe  from  a 
"  sheer  weariness  of  having  no  other  lives  to  arrange  save 
his  own,  and  the  children's,"  but  because  she  really  felt 
the  Rabbi  would  bring  a  happiness  and  a  steadiness  into 
Ruth's  life.  She  knew  she  had  indulged  and  petted  the 
little  sister  left  in  her  care,  far  more  than  was  good  for 
her.  Since  she  had  ceased  to  be  a  child,  Ruth  had  taken 
quite  naturally  to  indulging  and  petting  herself.  Eliza 
beth,  now  and  then,  gave  way  to  a  nervous  spasm  of 
dread  lest  the  girl  should,  some  day,  marry  in  the  same 

52 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

impetuous  way  in  which  she  bought  the  pictures  or  motor 
cars  which  happened  to  catch  her  fancy.  Mrs.  Frank 
was  seeking  in  Philip  someone  who  should,  with  the  most 
perfect  mildness,  correct  her  own  mistakes  in  dealing  with 
Ruth.  This  might  be  a  bit  inconvenient  for  Philip,  but 
he  would  find  compensations. 

Dr.  Frank  never  listened  with  seriousness  to  his  wife's 
forebodings.  He  was  nearly  as  fond  as  was  Elizabeth 
of  his  pretty  young  sister-in-law,  but  his  greater  detach 
ment  gave  him  a  fairer  estimate  of  her  practicality.  His 
fears  for  Ruth  tended  in  precisely  the  opposite  direction 
from  those  of  his  wife.  Ruth  knew  values.  The  pictures 
she  purchased,  however  impulsively,  were  usually  worth 
what  she  paid  for  them,  and  the  automobile  she  had  bought 
proved  far  more  reliable  than  Dr.  Frank's  own  car.  The 
surgeon  believed  Ruth  would  always  arrange  her  life  to 
serve  her  own  comfort  and  what  he  dreaded  for  her  was 
a  consequent  degeneration  into  a  flabby  worthlessness  of 
mind  and  spirit.  He  wanted  her  to  choose  something  diffi 
cult  and  fight  it  through.  He  would  have  liked  it  better 
had  her  accomplishments  come  to  her  with  less  facility. 
He  thought  he  knew  just  how  unwieldy  of  body  and 
clumsy  of  brain  she  would  be  at  forty  if  she  married  some 
eminently  suitable  person,  like  Arthur  Kahn.  He  had  not 
scrupled  to  enlarge  upon  this  idea  with  much  annoying 
detail  to  both  Ruth  and  Elizabeth.  Regarding  Philip,  he 
was  more  doubtful.  Ruth  might  really  throw  herself, 
whole-heartedly,  into  her  enthusiast-lover's  dreams,  and 
rise  to  higher  stature  fighting  his  hopeless  fights, — pro 
vided,  always,  the  man  really  intended  to  do  anything  but 
talk.  If  he  were  merely  going  to  be  a  fashionable  social 
ornament,  he  would  be  the  worst  possible  husband  for  a 

53 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

girl  who  was  herself  all  too  prone  to  such  a  fate.  Mean 
while,  he  stole  covert  glances  at  the  progress  of  the  idyll, 
and  implored  his  wife  to  cease  from  trying  to  play  Destiny. 

Incidentally,  he  amused  himself  more  than  a  little  by 
watching  Elizabeth's  burning  impatience. 

He  came  home  late  one  night  in  December  after  a  day 
of  unusual  effort — even  for  him — and  was  about  to  enter 
the  living-room  when  Elizabeth  beckoned  him  toward  the 
library. 

"  Dr.  Graetz  and  Ruth  are  in  there,"  she  whispered. 

"  Well,  suppose ,"  he  answered  laughingly. 

"  Your  grandfather  would  have  walked  in  boldly  and 
insisted  on  knowing  what  his  intentions  happened  to  be. 
Life  was  simpler  in  those  days." 

"  Indeed  it  was,"  his  wife  sighed  fervently.  "  Now-a- 
days  girls  do  these  things  for  themselves — and  badly." 

He  lifted  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  then  pointed  signifi 
cantly  to  her  wedding  ring. 

"  'Not  always  so  badly,"  he  smiled,  "  not  always !  " 

"  Of  course,  my  dear,"  she  retorted  good-humoredly, 
"  when  I  succeeded  in  ensnaring  you,  I  was  an  unusually 
lucky  woman.  You  thoughtfully  remind  me  of  it,  now  and 
then.  But  it  doesn't  change  the  rule.  Now  Ruth " 

"How  far  have  they  got?"  Robert  interrupted. 
"  Last  time  I  eavesdropped  they  were  talking  glibly  of 
plans  for  advancing  the  Brotherhood  of  Man.  It  struck 
me  as  malapropos.  The  Fatherhood  idea  should  have 
been  in  this  young  man's  mind ." 

"Robert!"  his  wife  exclaimed,  "I  believe  you're 
growing  positively  coarse !  " 

"  Perhaps,"  he  conceded.  "  All  day  long  I've  been 
tinkering  with  people's  insides.  It  makes  one  elemental. 

54 


THE  FASHION  IN  PROPHETS 

I  never  once  thought  about  making  them  noble.  I  was 
merely  concerned  in  keeping  them  alive,  if  possible. 
Preachers  and  women  see  these  things  from  one  angle, 
ploughmen  and  surgeons  from  another.  Is  Ruth  really 
going  to  marry  him,  jilt  him,  or  keep  me  out  of  my  living- 
room  forever?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Elizabeth  admitted.  "  I  can't  get  her 
to  talk  about  him  at  all." 

"  Oh,"  the  surgeon  announced  easily,  "  then  we  might 
as  well  discuss  wedding  presents.  If  she  won't  talk  about 
him,  she  really  wants  him,  and  if  she  wants  him  it 
doesn't  matter  what  his  views  are." 

"  I  don't  know,"  Elizabeth  repeated.  "  Things  with 
them  seem  about  where  they  were  more  than  a  month  ago." 

"  It  doesn't  matter,  Bess,  if  Ruth  has  really  made  up 
her  mind !  "  was  Robert's  final  comment.  "  Of  course,  he 
would  be  a  bit  languid,  being  a  chap  who  makes  a  living  by 
mere  talk.  Anyhow,  all  men  are  potterers  by  trade  except 
physicians  and  surgeons.  Now  that  I  think  of  it,  even 
physicians  potter  some." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

THE  first  incident  tending  to  unsettle  Philip's  faith 
in  himself  and  his  work  was  so  totally  irrelevant,  so 
completely  unrelated  to  his  own  life  or  to  the  interests 
of  his  congregation,  that  it  might  easily  have  left  a  man 
of  more  phlegmatic  temperament  absolutely  undisturbed. 

About  eleven  o'clock  one  night  in  January  he  was 
slowly  and  deliberately  making  ready  for  bed.  Although 
weary  of  body  he  was  more  than  normally  pleased  with 
himself.  He  had  made,  this  evening,  at  a  public  Emer 
gency  meeting,  held  in  the  vestry  rooms  of  Beth  El,  a 
Avell-conceived  and  beautifully  delivered  plea  for  funds 
I  for  the  Jewish  Charities — whose  treasury  had  been 
\strained  almost  to  the  point  of  bankruptcy  by  demands 
Resulting  from  the  violent  economic  changes  caused  by  the 
European  war.  He  had  pictured  eloquently  the  unen 
durable  misery  existent  in  the  city,  although  his  only 
knowledge  of  its  actual  details  had  been  obtained  from 
the  routine  reports  of  the  Society's  paid  workers.  The 
tangible  results  of  his  words  in  Dollars  and  Cents  had 
been  amazingly  gratifying — even  to  the  Society's  skilful 
managing  director,  who  had  shrewdly  decided,  as  he 
put  it,  "  to  play  the  new  Rabbi  as  a  trump  card."  Philip 
had  done  a  good  evening's  work.  Many  unfortunate 
creatures  would  escape  lack  of  food  and  shelter,  because 
of  the  compelling  force  of  his  thought  and  imagination. 
Incidentally,  this  virtuous  deed  had  been  one  which  would 
entail  pleasant  personal  consequences  to  himself.  There 
are  few  of  us — however  contemptuous  in  theory  of  the 

56 


shallow  admiration  of  our  fellows — who  could  have  re 
turned  home  from  such  a  meeting  without  a  comfortable 
glow  of  self-satisfaction — and  Philip  was  only  twenty- 
four  years  of  age — and  had  believed  ardently  in  the  lova 
ble  qualities  of  all  men,  even  before  they  had  begun  to 
demonstrate  these  virtues  by  extravagant  praise  of 
himself. 

The  reaction  after  his  speech  left  him  unusually  worn, 
and  he  had  hurried  home  from  the  Temple  to  enjoy  what 
seemed  to  him  a  well-earned  night  of  sleep.  Just  as  he 
was  in  that  debatable  stage  where  one  is  neither  properly 
garbed  nor  disreputably  negligee,  the  telephone  bell  rang 
sharply  and  he  sprang  to  obey  its  summons. 

It  was  a  woman's  voice  who  spoke.  "  Is  this  Rabbi 
Graetz  ?  "  she  demanded. 

When  he  assured  her  of  his  identity  she  continued  in 
the  measured  tones  of  a  competent  subordinate,  perform 
ing  a  routine  duty — not  unimportant — but  one  which  de 
manded  no  display  of  undue  excitement. 

"  This  is  the  Johns  Hopkins  Hospital,"  she  announced. 
"  The  Resident  has  ordered  me  to  ask  some  Rabbi  if  he 
could  come  here  at  once  to  see  a  man  in  the  accident 
ward.  The  patient's  injuries  will  probably  prove  fatal, 
the  doctor  thinks.  We  know  nothing  of  the  man  except 
that  he  keeps  asking  to  see  a  Rabbi.  Will  you  come?" 

"  Certainly,"  Philip  answered,  "  immediately !  I'll 
order  a  taxi.  What  shall  I  do  when  I  reach  the  Hospital  ?" 

"  Go  to  the  desk  in  the  entrance  hall  and  ask  for  Miss 
Watts,"  he  was  told,  after  which  the  voice  extinguished 
itself  promptly,  with  a  business-like  click  of  the  telephone 
instrument. 

It  was  certainly  characteristic  of  Philip  that  he  had 
not  indulged  in  even  an  instant's  hesitation  before  accept- 

57 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ing  his  duty.  There  were  many  extenuating  circum 
stances  he  might  have  urged  as  excuses  for  inaction.  He 
was  tired,  not  because  of  mere  frivolity,  but  because 
he  had  been  engaged  in  work  for  the  good  of  others. 
It  was  a  night  of  sudden  and  penetrating  cold  after 
a  day  of  dull  rain,  and  the  streets  were  covered  with 
a  thin  and  treacherous  sheet  of  ice.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
one  of  his  older  brothers  in  the  Rabbinate  had  been  given 
priority  by  the  Hospital  nurse  in  her  telephoned  request, 
and  had  promptly  pleaded  a  convenient  indisposition.  It 
was  to  this  worthy  man's  thoughtful  consideration  that 
Philip  owed  his  present  necessity  for  a  hurried  trip  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  city. 

After  summoning  a  taxi-cab,  by  telephone,  he  hastily 
replaced  his  discarded  clothing  and  descended  to  the  ves 
tibule  of  the  Hotel,  there  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  auto 
mobile.  It  seemed  abnormally  long  in  making  its  appear 
ance,  but  when  it  finally  drew  up  to  the  curb,  its  chauf 
feur  explained  how  impossible  it  was  for  any  machine, 
even  if  it  were  equipped  with  chains,  to  make  rapid  prog 
ress  on  such  a  night.  Philip  peered  through  the  frosty 
windows  of  the  cab  as  it  threaded  its  deliberate  path 
through  unfamiliar  streets.  He  noticed  with  a  sense  of 
growing  depression  row  after  row  of  small,  monotonous 
homes,  each  one  exactly  like  its  neighbor.  Through  his 
mind,  in  unison  with  the  steady  throb  of  the  motor, 
coursed  somber  and  unconnected  fancies.  He  thought 
of  his  errand,  and  the  next  minute  found  himself  won 
dering  into  which  of  these  staid,  uncharacteristic  little 
structures  Death  would  make  his  next  raid,  bringing 
into  the  drab  lives  of  its  occupants,  perhaps,  the  only 
touch  of  dramatic  dignity  they  would  ever  know;  and 
next  his  imagination  was  deciding  what  words  he  could 

58 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

find  to  say  by  way  of  consolation  to  the  strange  man  to 
whose  aid  he  was  hurrying,  and  who,  perchance,  by 
morning  would  be  far  wiser  than  himself  and  all  other 
living  men,  with  a  new-found  knowledge  of  the  mysteries 
of  Life  and  Death. 

At  last  the  machine  came  to  a  stop  before  the  great 
pile  of  Hospital  Buildings,  and  Philip  dashed  up  the  steps, 
and  into  the  vast  rotunda  of  the  central  building.  Breath 
less,  and  taken  completely  by  surprise,  he  found  him 
self  face  to  face  with  Thorwaldsen's  great  white  statue 
of  the  Christ,  the  arms  outstretched,  the  face  filled  with 
Divine  Compassion.  So  significant  was  this  huge  mass 
of  eloquent  marble  that  there  was  scarcely  need  for  the 
chiselled  inscription — "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  who  are 
weary  and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  Rest." 

The  young  Rabbi  unconsciously  paused,  and  paid  full 
and  heartfelt  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  Great  Rabbi 
of  Bethlehem,  who  has  been  chosen  by  millions  as  the 
symbol  of  Infinite  Love,  yet  whose  name  has  been  invoked 
by  myriads  of  false  followers  in  justification  of  deeds  of 
fiendish  cruelty.  "  He  too  was  a  Jew,  and  a  teacher  of 
our  faith,"  was  the  thought  which  flashed  into  Philip's 
mind,  immediately  to  give  place  to  his  own  characteristic 
idea.  "  After  all,  it  is  we,  who  will  not  believe  Him  to  be 
more  than  He  truly  was,  who  understand  Him  best, — who 
can  best  teach  the  world  what  He  meant  it  to  know." 
Filled  with  such  emotions,  he  remembered  his  own  mis 
sion  of  helpful  ministry,  and  making  his  way  to  the  desk, 
introduced  himself  and  explained  his  purpose.  The  night 
clerk  promptly  telephoned  to  some  mysterious  personage 
and  very  shortly  thereafter  a  trim,  tall,  young  woman, 
dressed  in  stiffly-starched  blue,  came  to  his  side  and 
beckoned  him  to  follow  her.  It  was  difficult  to  believe 

59 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

one  could  walk  so  great  a  distance  without  passing  beyond 
the  confines  of  the  Hospital.  Along  many  corridors, 
Philip  was  led  by  his  guide.  Each  hall,  with  its  dim 
lights  reflected  upon  the  brightly-polished  floor,  seemed 
almost  deserted,  yet  somehow  pervaded  by  an  uncanny 
air  of  being  ever  watched  by  tireless  attendants.  He 
had  never  before  entered  this,  or  any  other  great  Hospital, 
and  the  impression  created  in  his  mind  was  almost  one 
of  awe.  Behind  each  of  the  doors  Science  was  at  grips 
with  disease  and  death.  Every  instant  was  pregnant 
with  Fate  for  scores  who  lay  in  their  neat,  white  beds, 
unaware  whether  they  should  return  again  to  take  up 
their  petty,  engrossing  anxieties  and  ambitions,  or  mingle 
themselves  with  the  dust  from  which  they  had  sprung. 
Now  and  then,  a  nurse  or  orderly  would  glide  swiftly 
and  noiselessly  into  some  patient's  room.  Once  they 
passed  a  physician  garbed  in  spotless  white  linen,  hurrying 
quickly  upon  some  duty  of  apparent  urgency.  They 
paused  at  the  turn  of  a  hallway  to  avoid  interference  with 
two  orderlies  bearing  upon  a  narrow  litter  the  inanimate 
form  of  a  patient  still  drugged  with  ether,  on  his  way 
from  the  operating  table  to  some  place  where  he  would 
await  the  mysterious  return  of  the  soul,  which  had  some 
how  left  his  body  untenanted  during  its  hour  of  supreme 
ordeal.  Yet  all  this  intense  drama  was  enacted  in  an 
atmosphere  of  abnormal  quiet,  like  the  death  struggle 
of  a  mouse  imprisoned  under  the  glass  vacuum  bell  of 
an  air  pump.  The  Rabbi  felt  oppressed,  impotent,  his 
own  importance  completely  crushed  out  among  these 
silent  creatures  who  dealt  without  a  shadow  of  excite 
ment  with  the  issues  of  health  and  agony,  existence  and 
eternity. 

During  all  this  time  the  young  nurse  had  spoken  no 
60 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

word.  Philip,  as  he  followed  her,  gave  another  swift 
thought  to  the  possibilities  of  the  interview  which  lay 
before  him.  It  was  an  unusual  thing  for  a  Jew  on  the 
threshold  of  Death  to  seek  the  aid  of  a  Rabbi.  A  teacher 
in  Israel  is  not  believed  by  the  most  credulous  of  his 
followers  to  possess  any  greater  power  than  any  other 
poor  mortal,  to  pardon  sin  or  to  intercede  on  behalf  of 
a  conscience-stricken  penitent,  with  an  offended  and  out 
raged  God.  Some  very  practical  errand,  or  last  message, 
no  doubt,  was  to  be  entrusted  to  him  by  a  forsaken, 
friendless  creature  whose  desire  for  a  Rabbi  was  based 
upon  the  knowledge  that  in  such  a  man  he  could  not  fail 
to  find  a  Jew — and  therefore,  a  brother. 

Philip's  opportunity  for  conjecture  came  to  a  sudden 
end,  for  his  conductress  turned  suddenly  from  the  cor 
ridor  into  a  small  office  where  at  a  study  desk  there  sat, 
apparently  awaiting  the  Rabbi's  entrance,  a  vigorous 
young  doctor  dressed  in  the  white  Hospital  uniform. 

"  You're  Dr.  Graetz  ?  "  he  began,  motioning  Philip  to 
a  seat,  and  speaking  in  brisk  but  not  discourteous  tones. 
He  did  not  give  Philip  opportunity  to  reply  before  going 
on  to  say: 

"  I'm  Dr.  Manning.  I'm  in  charge  here  till  morning. 
It's  not  such  an  appropriate  night  for  being  dragged 
across  town,  is  it?  Still,  I  thought  I  ought  to  do  some 
thing  about  this  chap.  He's  a  Hebrew."  The  doctor 
paused  slightly  before  using  the  word,  as  though  he  were 
anxious  to  choose  a  term  bearing  the  least  offensive 
significance. 

At  another  time  the  minister  would  have  explained 
tolerantly  his  preference  for  the  word  "  Jew,"  and  re 
pelled  the  idea  of  anyone  of  that  race  being  anxious  to 

61 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

escape  its  implications;  but  now  he  merely  nodded,  and 
the  physician  continued : 

"  He's  an  accident  case.  Slipped  tonight,  on  a  cross 
ing  at  Baltimore  Street,  and  one  wheel  of  a  heavy  auto 
truck  passed  over  his  abdomen." 

Philip  struggled  unsuccessfully  to  restrain  a  shudder 
of  horror,  and  the  man  of  medicine  noticed  it  with  pro 
fessional  contempt. 

"  You  needn't  get  squeamish.  You  won't  see  any 
thing  to  shock  you.  He's  covered  up  all  right !  " 

"  It  isn't  that !  "  Philip  protested  feebly,  but  there  was 
a  definite  lack  of  conviction  in  his  tones. 

"  Well,"  Dr.  Manning  said,  "  they  brought  him  in 
here  and  took  him  into  the  operating  room,  but  the  house 
surgeons  said,  at  the  first  glimpse,  he  hadn't  a  chance. 
He's  sure  to  "  go  out "  pretty  soon,  and  meanwhile,  all 
we  can  make  out  of  him  is  the  word  "  Rabbi."  He  says 
it  over  and  over  again.  He's  still  conscious,  but  we  can't 
learn  his  name  or  anything  else.  If  he'd  been  an  Italian 
or  an  Irishman  and  had  called  for  a  priest,  he'd  have  got 
one,  so  I  thought  if  he  wanted  a  Rabbi  I  ought  to  try  to 
find  one  for  him." 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,"  Philip  responded.  "  I  hope 
I'll  be  able  to  make  him  more  comfortable.  Does  it  matter 
how  long  I  stay  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  the  physician  answered  coolly.  "  He's 
got  no  chance  anyhow.  I  took  him  off  the  ward  and  into 
a  private  room  because  I  didn't  want  him  to  disturb  the 
other  patients  too  much.  So  make  yourself  as  comfortable 
as  you  can,  and  if  you  want  anything,  ask  Miss  Watts 
to  send  for  me.  She'll  take  you  to  him  at  once." 

The  nurse,  who  had  remained  silently  standing  in  the 
presence  of  her  superior,  and  who  would  have  been 

62 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

shocked  rather  than  gratified  had  the  doctor  suggested 
her  being  seated  during  the  interview,  now  betrayed 
prompt  signs  of  returning  animation. 

She  opened  the  office  door  significantly  so  that  Philip 
would  have  had  no  reasonable  opportunity  for  further 
questions  even  had  he  meditated  them,  and  without  delay, 
led  him  once  more  upon  his  quest. 

A  minute  later  she  ushered  him  into  a  small  room 
with  one  great  window  through  which  there  was  visible, 
against  the  cold  brilliance  of  an  electric  street  lamp,  a 
great  wind-tossed  tree,  every  twig  of  which  was  covered 
with  a  beautiful  garment  of  glistening  ice.  The  gray 
walled  room  was  utterly  bare  except  for  a  bed,  a  chair, 
and  a  tiny  table  bearing  upon  it  a  glass  of  water  and  a 
nurse's  chart. 

The  form  upon  the  bed  was  covered  to  the  chin 
with  a  white  sheet,  but  a  long,  nervous,  ill-kempt  hand  lay 
wearily  on  either  side  of  the  patient's  body,  and  on  the 
pillow  was  the  head  of  a  man  whose  every  feature  pro 
claimed  the  Jew.  Not  the  Jew  one  would  have  expected 
to  meet  at  Beth  El  Temple,  or  in  Mrs.  Frank's  elegant 
living-room,  but  one  who  had  known  misery  and  hatred 
in  the  Old  World,  and  who  had  fled  from  it  to  experience 
hardship,  privation  and  grinding  poverty  in  free  and 
boundless  America.  His  long  and  untrimmed  beard  was 
coarse  and  of  the  blackness  of  charred  wood.  It  accent 
uated  to  an  almost  ghost-like  whiteness  the  deathly  pallor 
of  his  brow;  but  his  eyes,  in  his  hour  of  mute  despair, 
were  fine — great,  dark,  intelligent  eyes — which  seemed 
haunted  with  a  tragedy  the  man  himself  could  never  have 
expressed  or  understood,  even  when  he  had  been  vigorous 
and  full  of  abundant  life. 

The  eloquent  eyes  rested  inquiringly  upon  the  in- 

63 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

truders,  and  the  nurse  spoke  with  the  slow  distinct  accents 
one  uses  to  children,  and  to  men  who  cannot  comprehend 
the  only  language  one  can  talk. 

"  The  Rabbi,"  she  announced,  pointing  to  Philip, — 
"  the  Rabbi." 

The  dying  man's  eyes  lighted  up  with  an  expression 
of  eager  hope,  unspeakably  touching  to  his  young  visitor. 
This  broken  creature  was  poor,  helpless  and  unlettered. 
The  life  he  was  yielding  up  had  been  sordid  and  unbeau- 
tiful,  but  still  this  forlorn  immigrant  shared  with  him 
self  the  wonderful  traditions  of  the  Martyr  Race,  and  in 
his  crude  way  had  borne  all  too  heavy  a  share  of  its  agony. 
He  hurried  to  the  bedside,  and  grasped  the  weak,  useless 
hand  in  his  own. 

Then  the  mangled  man  on  the  bed  began  to  talk  in 
harsh  dry  tones  spoken  almost  in  a  whisper,  but  with 
headlong  feverish  haste.  The  nurse  was  about  to  leave 
them  to  their  confidences,  but  Philip  stopped  her  with  a 
gesture  of  consternation. 

He  was  unable  to  understand  one  single  phrase  the 
poor  creature  was  racking  his  soul  to  utter ! 

Why  had  he  not  thought  to  ask  what  tongue  this  man 
could  speak,  or  why  had  not  the  Hospital  authorities  made 
sure  before  sending  for  him,  of  his  primary  qualifications 
for  the  task  ?  Now  and  then  Philip  caught  the  sound  of 
some  familiar,  though  mispronounced,  word  of  Teutonic 
origin,  but  the  sense  of  what  was  being  told  to  him  was 
utterly  lost. 

The  Rabbi  spoke  German — bookishly,  it  was  true — 
but  nevertheless,  fluently.  With  Hebrew  also  he  was 
perfectly  familiar.  Of  the  Yiddish  dialect  he  knew  noth 
ing  at  all.  Had  this  immigrant's  vocabulary  been  com 
posed  almost  entirely  of  words  borrowed  or  corrupted 

64 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

from  the  Hebrew  and  German  tongues,  Philip  might 
have  succeeded  in  piecing  together  the  significance  of  the 
torrent  of  words  which  issued  from  the  lips  of  the  suf 
ferer.  But  unfortunately,  Yiddish  is  a  varied  and  fluid 
mode  of  speech.  In  the  mouths  of  wanderers  from 
some  sections  of  Europe,  it  may  easily  be  mistaken  for 
an  ungrammatical  and  degenerate  form  of  the  German 
language.  Other  Jews,  however,  speak  the  dialect  with 
so  many  infusions  of  words  and  accents  appropriated 
from  the  Russian,  as  to  make  it  totally  unintelligible  to 
anyone  uninitiated  in  its  baffling  perplexities. 

The  patient,  who  was  now  staring  desperately  into  the 
Rabbi's  face,  had  come  to  the  scene  of  his  death  from  the 
wrong  Russian  village! 

Frantically,  Philip  began  talking  to  the  man  in  his 
own  grammatical  German  and  instantaneously,  the  light 
of  intelligence  left  the  patient's  eyes,  and  a  look  of  dumb, 
puzzled  misunderstanding  appeared  in  its  place. 

Again  and  again  Philip  tried  his  utmost  to  find  some 
method  of  communication  with  the  injured  man.  He 
only  succeeded  in  awakening  in  this  mind,  to  which  he 
had  intended  to  bring  peace  and  comfort,  a  reflection  of 
his  own  excitement.  The  guttural  whisper  became  sul 
len, — almost  angry — and  the  one  word  which  the  Rabbi 
could  understand  in  the  immigrant's  outbursts  of  despair 
ing  protest  was  the  contemptuous  syllable  "  goy  " — which 
he  knew  to  be  this  dying  man's  pitiless  judgment  upon 
himself  as  one  who  was  in  truth  no  Jew  at  all — a  stranger 
and  an  alien. 

"  It's  no  use,"  Philip  said  helplessly,  turning  to  the 
nurse.  "I  can't  find  out  what  he  wants  to  say.  He  speaks 
nothing  but  Yiddish.  You  should  have  sent  for  a  down 
town  Rabbi — a  Russian." 

5  65 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

The  nurse,  quick  to  repel  any  blame  which  might  be 
imputed  to  her  in  this  unexpected  dilemma,  replied 
quickly : 

"  I  had  to  use  the  telephone  directory.  Down-town 
Rabbis  can't  afford  telephones.  Besides,  I  thought  any 
Rabbi  would  do." 

Her  voice  expressed  a  polite  contempt  for  a  religion  so 
loosely  organized  to  aid  its  distressed  communicants. 
Had  the  man  been  a  Roman  Catholic  the  first  priest  she 
had  summoned  would  have  been  fully  equipped  to  cope 
with  the  situation,  or  at  least  to  find  prompt  assistance, 
if  for  some  reason  he  had  found  himself  unprepared  for 
his  task! 

"  We  must  find  him  a  Rabbi  who  is  a  Russian  Jew, 
at  once,"  Philip  announced. 

"  I'll  take  you  back  to  Dr.  Manning,"  replied  Miss 
Watts,  evidently  determined  to  become  entangled  in  no 
further  responsibilities. 

The  dying  immigrant  had  relapsed  once  more  into 
his  former  state  of  despairing  apathy.  Philip  cast  upon 
him  a  last  glance  of  mingled  compassion  and  self-re 
proach  and  returned  to  Dr.  Manning's  office.  There  new 
perplexities  confronted  him.  The  young  doctor  appar 
ently  considered  Philip  to  be  disgustingly  ill-equipped 
for  his  duties,  and  had  neither  comprehension  nor  toler 
ance  for  these  delicate  distinctions  between  various  kinds 
of  Jews.  To  Dr.  Graetz's  demand  that  a  Russian  Rabbi 
be  procured  at  once,  the  physician  responded  by  giving 
him  carte  blanche  to  summon  as  many  as  he  chose,  but 
this  permission  merely  disclosed  another  bit  of  deplorable 
ignorance  on  Philip's  part.  He  was  compelled  to  confess 
he  did  not  know  the  name  of  a  single  minister  of  his 
own  creed  in  the  city,  except  those  of  the  few  fashionable 

66 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

up-town  Temples — no  one  of  whom  he  had  a  right  to 
suppose  more  proficient  in  Yiddish  than  himself. 

Dr.  Manning's  smile  savored  slightly  of  amused  cyni 
cism.  Philip,  growing  more  miserably  embarrassed  every 
moment,  yet  feeling  he  dared  not  ignore  his  debt  to  his 
dying  brother  Jew,  continued  to  rack  his  brain  for  some 
available  solution. 

"  It  needn't  be  a  Rabbi,  then,"  he  urged.  "  Surely 
there  must  be  some  one  in  this  big  Hospital  who  can 
understand  Yiddish." 

"  There  is  no  one  of  your  faith  on  the  resident  staff 
at  this  time,"  the  doctor  informed  him  patiently,  "  in  the 
day  time  one  of  the  young  women  in  the  Social  Service 
Department  could  interpret  for  you,  but  they're  all  off 
duty  now,  and  even  if  I  wanted  to  drag  one  from  her 
home  at  this  time  of  night,  I  wouldn't  know  for  which  one 
to  send." 

"  There  must  be  plenty  of  Russian  Jewish  patients 
here,"  Philip  insisted. 

"  There  certainly  are,"  Dr.  Manning  agreed,  "  but  we 
don't  catalogue  them  by  race;  I  can't  send  someone 
through  the  wards  waking  up  sick  people  to  ask  if  they 
can  talk  Yiddish.  I'm  afraid  I've  done  all  I  can." 

Philip  remembered  suddenly  that  Dr.  Frank  had  told 
him  how  often  he  was  called  to  the  Johns  Hopkins  in  the 
small  hours  of  the  night,  and  it  occurred  to  him  to  an 
nounce  his  acquaintance  with  the  surgeon  and  to  suggest 
the  possibility  of  his  aid.  The  young  resident  thawed 
slightly  at  the  mention  of  Robert's  name. 

"  Dr.  Frank  is  a  member  of  the  Visiting  Surgical 
Staff,"  he  explained.  "  He's  only  here  when  he's  operat 
ing  or  giving  after  care  to  his  patients.  I'm  pretty  sure 
he  isn't  here  now,  but  I'll  make  certain." 

67 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Miss  Watts,  once  more  pressed  into  service,  soon  re 
ported  that  Dr.  Frank  had  been  in  the  Hospital  earlier  in 
the  evening  but  was  not  expected  again  until  morning. 

The  thought  of  Dr.  Frank  awoke  in  Philip's  mind 
some  recollection  of  David  Gordon,  whom  he  had  not 
seen  since  the  night  of  the  dinner  at  the  surgeon's  home. 
Here  was  a  man  who  was  himself  of  Russian  birth,  who 
could  doubtless  speak  Yiddish,  and  who  would,  in  any 
event,  know  just  what  should  be  done. 

He  asked  permission  to  use  the  telephone  and  after  a 
few  anxious  minutes  succeeded  in  awakening  the  lawyer, 
and  telling  him  excitedly  the  whole  distressing  stoiy. 
Gordon  was  silent  for  an  instant  after  Philip  had  com 
pleted  his  narrative.  The  young  Rabbi,  fearing  the  tele 
phone  connection  had  been  interrupted,  exclaimed  im 
patiently:  "Hello!  Hello!  Are  you  still  there?  Can't 
you  tell  me  what  to  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  here,"  was  the  reply  he  heard,  "  let  me  alone  a 
minute.  I'm  only  a  lawyer,  I  have  to  think  before  I 
can  give  advice."  Then  a  minute  later  he  was  told : 

"  Lubowitz  would  come.  He  lives  on  Albemarle 
Street  near  Pratt,  but  he's  got  no  telephone,  and  his 
English  is  so  bad  you'd  never  make  him  understand  what 
you  wanted  if  you  went  for  him  yourself.  Same  thing 
with  all  the  others.  I  could  give  you  a  dozen  of  their 
names.  If  you  think  it  needn't  be  a  Rabbi,  I'll  come 
myself." 

Philip's  thanks  were  almost  incoherent  in  their  fervid 
gratitude,  but  David  Gordon  cut  him  short  with  rude 
decision. 

"  All  right,"  he  snapped,  "  you  needn't  make  such  a 
fuss  about  it.  Telephone  for  a  taxi  while  I  get  into  my 

68 


clothes.  My  address  is  1086  Madison  Avenue.  Sure 
you've  got  the  number?  Better  write  it  down.  I'll  be 
right  over." 

The  lawyer  rang  off  without  more  formality,  and 
Philip,  after  arranging  for  Gordon's  transportation,  re 
ported  to  Dr.  Manning  the  result  of  his  efforts.  The 
doctor  had  never  met  Gordon  but  knew  of  him  as  one 
of  the  city's  most  successful  lawyers.  He  secretly  won 
dered  at  the  strange  quality  of  these  Jews  who  were  will 
ing  to  leap  eagerly  from  their  comfortable  beds  at  the 
call  of  some  pauper  with  no  claim  upon  them  except  the 
tie  of  a  common  race.  "  And  when  they  get  here,"  he 
thought,  "  they  haven't  an  idea  what's  to  be  done !  Still 
it's  odd  how  they  stick  together ! " 

If  the  dying  man,  less  than  a  hundred  yards  away, 
could  suddenly  have  awakened  to  health  and  intelligible 
speech,  he  might  have  expressed  some  doubts  as  to  the 
accuracy  of  this  Gentile  generalization  relating  to  the 
Solidarity  of  Israel.  Or  had  the  physician  remained  to 
chat  with  the  Rabbi  while  they  awaited  Gordon's  coming, 
he  might  somewhat  have  modified  his  judgment,  but  he 
had  hardly  motioned  Philip  to  a  chair  before  he  was  called 
away  to  a  distant  part  of  the  Hospital  upon  some  mission 
which  appeared  to  permit  of  no  delay. 

"  Help  yourself  to  a  book  or  a  magazine,"  he  sug 
gested.  "  There  are  cigarettes  on  the  table  if  you  smoke. 
I'll  be  back  as  soon  as  I  can.  I'll  tell  the  ward  nurse  as 
I  pass,  to  keep  an  eye  on  your  man." 

Philip,  left  to  himself,  found  the  minutes  dragged 
wearily.  He  had  never  learned  the  solace  of  tobacco,  and 
the  books  on  the  doctor's  shelf  seemed  painfully  technical. 
He  ran  his  eye  hurriedly  over  their  titles,  only  to  find 
text  books  treating  of  every  disease  of  which  he  had 

69 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

vaguely  heard,  and  a  few  whose  acquaintance  he  hoped 
never  to  make.  Among  all  this  mass  of  medical  lore  he 
found  in  a  corner  a  volume  written  by  William  Osier, 
bearing  the  title  "  Aequanimitas  and  Other  Essays."  It 
was  impossible  to  have  lived  in  Baltimore  even  a  few 
months  without  gaining  some  hearsay  knowledge  of  the 
great  physician  whose  name  and  whose  personality  had 
become  a  tradition,  no  less  potent  since  his  removal  to  a 
foreign  land  than  when  he  had  been  part  and  parcel  of  the 
city's  life.  Philip  pulled  down  the  book  with  its  title  so 
oddly  at  variance  with  his  own  mood.  He  tried  to  read, 
but  the  words  made  no  impression  whatever  upon  his 
confused,  jarring  thoughts.  Equanimity  seemed,  like 
many  other  desirable  attributes,  a  thing  one  might  well 
exalt  when  one  happened  to  have  it,  but  which  was  not 
to  be  procured  for  the  mere  desire.  Sometimes  the  dark 
face  of  the  injured  immigrant  stared  up  at  him  with 
great  accusing  eyes  from  the  printed  page,  as  though 
asking  what  right  he  had  to  pose  as  a  teacher  in  Israel 
who  had  no  comprehension  of  the  wants  of  those  who 
would  stand  most  sorely  in  need  of  aid.  Sometimes 
Philip  was  swept  by  wholly  ignoble  emotions  of  damaged 
self-esteem.  He  had  been  made  to  appear  supremely 
ridiculous,  he  felt, — ridiculous  to  himself,  to  this  business 
like  sprig  of  a  doctor,  and  to  David  Gordon,  who  would 
be  none  too  sorry  to  confirm  his  previous  scoffing  beliefs 
regarding  the  inefficiency  of  preachers  in  general  and 
himself  in  particular.  It  was  unfair  that  he,  who  had 
meant  so  well,  should  be  placed  in  such  an  absurd  posi 
tion.  He  had  been  fed  on  praise  ever  since  he  had  entered 
this  hospitable  city,  and  had  unconsciously  learned  to 
shrink  from  the  very  thought  of  mockery. 

For  a  minute  he  forgot  the  plight  of  the  sufferer  he 
70 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

had  come  to  aid,  in  his  boyish  resentment  against  every 
one  and  everything  connected  with  his  unheroic 
situation. 

He  tossed  the  book  upon  the  table.  Equanimity  was 
not  for  him,  he  decided,  as  he  began  nervously  to  pace 
the  floor.  It  certainly  did  take  Gordon  a  long  time  to 
make  the  trip  across  town,  he  thought,  until  his  watch 
convinced  him  to  the  contrary.  He  began  once  more  to 
indulge  in  vain  conjecture  as  to  what  this  man  who  was 
about  to  die  could  have  to  impart.  Nothing,  in  all  prob 
ability,  of  any  real  consequence.  Still,  it  would  seem 
vital  to  a  man  about  to  set  forth  on  this  last  mysterious 
voyage.  To  die  among  men  whom  one  had  never  seen 
before  and  whose  every  action  proclaimed  their  utter 
indifference  to  the  personality  one  was  about  to  lose — 
it  w as  hard,  it  was  worse  than  hard ;  it  was  robbing  a  man 
of  one  of  those  few  emotional  consolations  which  are  the 
birthright  of  all  of  us — rich  and  poor — learned  and 
stolid.  Fantastic  visions  of  his  own  death  invaded  the 
young  minister's  mind.  He  had  always  thought  of  his 
end  as  something  impressive,  dignified,  as  nearly  ap 
proaching  the  sublime  as  was  consistent  with  standards 
of  restrained  good  taste.  Now  he  could  not  repel  per 
verse  pictures  of  himself,  stretched  on  some  rude  bed 
in  a  foreign  country,  dying  as  the  result  of  some  gro 
tesque  mishap,  among  strangers  to  whom  his  last  words 
of  profound  significance  and  burning  eloquence  were 
merely  a  confused  jumble  of  uncouth  noises.  Never 
before,  since  his  childhood,  had  Philip  feared  Death.  It 
was  a  climax,  according  to  his  faith,  to  a  triumphant 
purposeful  life.  Now,  however,  as  he  strode  from  wall 
to  wall,  he  felt  actual  terror  at  the  thought.  How  could 
one  sustain  his  beliefs  in  the  supreme  dignity  of  human 

71 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

life  and  death  as  one  remembered  the  mangled  mass 
of  aching  flesh  in  the  near-by  room,  whose  career  had 
seemingly  been  a  painful  quest  across  half  the  world  for 
bread  to  fill  an  empty  belly,  and  whose  end  was  the 
unnoticed  and  matter-of-fact  death  of.a  worn-out  animal  ? 

The  minutes  ticked  themselves  away.  Philip,  whose 
nights  had  never  before  been  tempestuous,  wondered 
why  he  had  failed  to  realize  what  an  eternity  of  time 
stretched  between  the  hours  of  sleep  and  waking.  Yet 
there  were  nurses  here — mere  girls — who  kept  solitary 
vigil  every  night !  He  stole  to  the  door  almost  as  though 
he  were  about  to  attempt  some  actual  crime,  and  opening 
it,  peered  out  into  the  long,  silent  corridor.  If  someone 
would  only  make  a  noise,  something  loud,  discordant, 
human !  But  no,  there  was  nothing  to  relieve  this  over 
powering  sensation  of  suppressed,  watchful  but  coldly 
unsympathetic,  activity.  It  was  like  an  unearthly,  hideous 
pantomime. 

The  Rabbi  turned  again  into  the  office  and  the  door 
swung  silently  closed.  He  was  once  more  the  solitary 
prisoner  of  his  sense  of  duty.  In  the  hope  of  distracting 
himself  with  a  new  sensation,  he  seized  from  the  table  one 
of  the  doctor's  cigarettes  and  with  some  awkwardness, 
succeeded  in  lighting  it.  He  drew  into  his  lungs  a  few 
experimental  puffs  of  smoke.  The  adventure  only  added 
to  his  discomfort.  Without  feeling  actually  ill,  he  was 
conscious  of  a  slight  sensation  of  uneasy  dizziness  and 
confusion.  Remembering  the  necessity  of  possible  action 
when  Gordon  should  arrive,  he  tossed  the  cigarette  into 
the  ash  tray  and  resumed  his  solitary  pacing  of  the  room. 

It  was  in  this  state  of  mental  and  physical  wretched 
ness  that  Gordon  found  him.  The  lawyer,  seemingly  as 
alert  and  as  fully  master  of  himself  as  though  it  were 

72 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

noon-day,  instead  of  two  in  the  morning,  came  briskly 
into  the  office  with  Miss  Watts. 

"Hello,  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  said,  "you  see  I'm  here. 
Where's  the  patient?"  he  demanded  of  the  nurse  with  a 
hint  of  sharp  aggressiveness. 

She  seemed  more  deferential  to  David  Gordon's  crisp 
authority  than  to  Philip's  studious  courtesy. 

"  I  must  see  Dr.  Manning  first,"  she  explained,  almost 
apologetically,  "then  if  he  says  so,  I'll  take  you  in  at 
once." 

But  when  the  doctor  returned,  it  was  with  unexpected 
news.  He  introduced  himself  to  the  lawyer,  and  without 
the  faintest  apparent  emotion  went  on  to  say: 

"  I'm  afraid  you've  had  your  night's  sleep  disturbed 
for  nothing.  I've  just  had  a  look  at  your  patient.  He's 
gone  into  coma.  You  might  wait  around  awhile  if  you 
like,  but  I'm  pretty  sure  he'll  never  come  out." 

David  shrugged  his  shoulders  without  making  any 
comment.  He  was,  in  fact,  watching  Philip  narrowly, 
being  perhaps  more  interested  in  noting  his  reaction  to 
these  tidings  than  in  the  information  itself.  The  Rabbi 
was  horrified,  it  seemed  to  David,  out  of  all  proportion 
to  the  magnitude  of  the  event. 

"  You  mean,"  Philip  stammered,  "  he's  going  to  die ! 
going  to  die,  without  being  able  to  talk  again  ?  " 

"  That's  about  it,"  Dr.  Manning  answered.  "'  He 
showed  more  stamina,  at  that,  than  the  average,  else  he'd 
never  have  rallied  after  the  ether." 

The  three  sat  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  Such  an  out 
come  of  the  night's  sordid  tragedy  seemed  incredible  to 
Philip — now  that  he  had  succeeded  in  bringing  the  capa 
ble  David  to  his  aid.  He  had  nerved  himself  to  the 
thought  of  his  apparent  absurdity  and  incapacity.  He 

73 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

was  no  longer  able  to  think  boyishly  of  himself  as  a  being 
of  almost  supernatural  power,  scattering  balm  and  spirit 
ual  peace  among  the  poor  and  hopeless  of  his  brethren — 
not  without  some  remote  resemblance  to  the  compassion 
ate  Christ  whose  sculptured  presence  dominated  the 
entrance  hall  below.  But  that  it  should  all  end  in  com 
plete  and  final  disaster — a  disaster  which  left  another  to 
pay  for  his  own  ignorance — this  was  more  than  he  felt 
himself  able  to  endure. 

"  Pull  yourself  together,"  David  ordered  in  a  stern 
whisper.  Then  in  his  normal  voice  he  said :  "  After  all, 
if  he's  unconscious  the  poor  devil  isn't  bothered  about 
what  he  wanted  to  tell.  Perhaps  it's  just  as  well." 

Courteously  declining  the  doctor's  suggestion  of  cigar 
ettes,  and  calmly  proffering  his  own  well-filled  case  of 
black  cigars,  he  proceeded  dexterously  to  entangle 
Dr.  Manning  in  a  long  and  intricate  argument  regarding 
the  value  and  veracity  of  medical  experts  in  legal  pro 
ceedings,  and  the  consideration — or  lack  of  it — accorded 
them  by  courts  and  counsel.  So  absorbed  did  the  doctor 
become  and  the  lawyer  appear  that  the  Rabbi's  silence 
seemed  entirely  unnoticed.  Philip  had  only  garbled 
impressions  of  what  they  were  discussing.  He  was 
plunged  into  a  passion  of  the  deepest  self-reproach.  He 
knew  how  illogical,  how  morbid,  he  had  become;  but 
he  was  unable  to  free  himself  from  the  memory  of  the 
unhappy  man  who  had  weighed  Philip  and  his  whole 
life  in  a  single  instant,  and  condemned  them  with  one 
burning  word  of  scorn. 

He  never  did  know  exactly  how  long  the  lawyer  and 
the  doctor  went  on  talking,  but  at  last  a  nurse  made  her 
way  into  the  room  with  a  whispered  message  to  Dr.  Man- 

74 


THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  MAN 

ning,  and  Philip  understood  that  the  man  was  dead,  and 
that  he  and  David  Gordon  were  expected  to  go  home. 

David  managed  the  details  of  their  departure  with 
the  same  easy  authority  he  had  displayed  from  the  minute 
of  his  appearance.  It  was  he  who  expressed  the  appre 
ciation  of  both  of  them,  of  the  doctor's  kindness,;  it  was 
he  who  procured  a  taxi  for  their  transit,  and  who  piloted 
Philip  safely  through  the  mazes  of  his  farewell. 

When  the  two  men  were  at  last  seated  in  the  machine, 
rumbling  away  from  the  Hospital,  David  lapsed  into 
silence,  as  he  puffed  meditatively  upon  his  cigar.  Per 
haps  he  thought  nothing  he  could  say  would  be  of  much 
help  to  Philip,  and  the  best  service  he  could  render  would 
be  to  give  him  time  to  regain  his  poise;  but  when  the 
machine  halted  for  a  minute  in  the  bright  electric  glare 
of  a  street  crossing,  and  the  lawyer  observed  how  drawn 
and  pale  was  the  Rabbi's  face — almost  as  though  he  were 
in  physical  pain — he  turned  to  the  young  man  impulsively. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  in  his  decided  manner,  "  don't 
let  yourself  get  maudlin  about  this  affair.  It  was  neither 
you  nor  I,  you  know,  who  ran  over  the  man,  and  if  we'd 
chosen  to  spend  the  night  in  honest  sleep  we  couldn't  have 
been  indicted.  It's  not  your  fault  the  people  at  your 
Seminary  chose  to  teach  you  the  Higher  Criticism  instead 
of  Yiddish — and  maybe  they  knew  what  they  were  doing, 
at  that.  If  your  worthy  President,  Mr.  Kaufman,  could 
know  what  you  are  thinking,  he'd  decide  he  was  squander 
ing  your  salary  on  a  madman." 

The  Rabbi  perceived  the  kindliness  concealed  behind 
the  lawyer's  brusque  words,  but  he  shook  his  head 
despairingly. 

"  I  know,"  he  answered,  "  you  think  I've  behaved  like 
a  child " 

75 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Not  a  bit,"  David  answered.  "  I  think  all  the  better 
of  you  because  of  the  things  you're  ashamed  of.  Of 
course,  you've  no  sense  of  humor,  but  if  you  had,  you 
couldn't  be  a  Rabbi  at  all." 

Philip's  eyes  widened  with  distress  at  the  idea  of  any 
thing  humorous  being  mingled  with  the  night's  grim 
happenings. 

David  laughed  a  curt,  dry  laugh  as  he  read  his  com 
panion's  thought. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said,  "  you'll  feel  better,  remem 
bering  what  a  heathen  I  am." 

Once  more  Philip  shook  his  head. 

"  You  can't  see ! "  he  began,  "  I  didn't  come  here  to 
talk  only  to  rich  men.  I  wanted  to  help.  It  isn't  just 
this  one  poor  fellow.  I " 

"  Never  mind,"  David  repeated,  laying  his  hand  on 
Philip's  shoulder,  as  the  machine  drew  up  to  the  Hotel 
where  the  Rabbi  was  to  alight.  "  I  see  what  you  mean, 
and  you're  a  good  sort.  But  there's  more  to  it  all  than 
you  thought.  It  wasn't  only  the  Yiddish !  You  and 
this  Russian  never  could  have  understood  one  another, 
anyhow." 


CHAPTER  VII 
PUBLIC  PENANCE 

HEALTHY,  vigorous  self-esteem  is  not  unlike  a  normal 
human  body.  It  can  endure  blows  of  the  most  painful 
violence,  and  yet  retain  the  blessed  quality  of  healing  its 
own  wounds.  Sometimes  one  feels  all  the  more  self- 
reliant  for  the  injuries  from  which  he  has  triumphantly 
recovered.  Having  fought  our  way  back  to  health  after 
catastrophes  which,  we  like  to  believe,  would  have 
crushed,  for  all  time,  a  man  of  weaker  fibre,  we  become 
convinced  we  are  not  to  be  conquered  by  any  series  of 
events  unless  their  weight  be  almost  supernatural. 

Some  such  salutary  process  promptly  began  to  act 
upon  Philip  Graetz.  He  awoke  late,  the  morning  after  his 
visit  to  the  Hospital,  his  spirits  bruised  and  lacerated  by 
the  memories  of  last  night's  experience.  He  still  won 
dered  how,  after  having  failed  so  lamentably  in  the 
doing  of  an  elementary  duty,  he  could  have  the  brazen 
effrontery  to  attempt  the  ordering  of  the  lives  of  others. 
But  presently,  he  arose  and  looked  through  his  window  at 
the  crisp  winter  sunshine,  noting  with  his  quick,  approv 
ing  eye  the  ice-clad  trees  and  the  trim  beauty  of  the 
parkway  leading  down  the  slope  of  Eutaw  Place  and  up 
the  ascent  in  the  distance  to  Druid  Hill.  As  he  gazed, 
life  once  more  began  to  offer  compensations  even  to  a 
young  man  who  has  been  honestly  and  woefully  disap 
pointed  in  himself.  Surely  in  a  world  of  such  definite 
loveliness  as  the  one  to  which  he  had  awakened,  there 

77 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

could  not  fail  to  be  work,  and  stimulating  work,  for 
such  a  man  as  he  was ! 

The  morning  papers  brought  him  additional  consola 
tion.  Each  one  had  at  least  a  column  devoted  to  the 
speech  he  had  delivered  in  the  earlier  and  happier  hours 
of  the  night,  and  made  admiring  mention  of  the  mag 
nificent  response  which  he  had  evoked.  "  The  Sun  "  even 
allowed  its  enthusiasm  to  display  itself  in  an  editorial, 
praising  the  proverbial  eagerness  of  the  Jew  to  care  for 
his  destitute  co-religionists  without  the  slightest  aid  from 
non-believers.  The  editorial  also  referred,  in  glowing 
terms,  to  Philip,  and  quoted,  with  extravagant  praise,  a 
sentence  or  two  from  his  address. 

After  a  long  and  careful  search,  Philip  found  in  an 
obscure  corner  of  only  one  newspaper,  a  five  line  item 
briefly  recording  the  death  at  the  Johns  Hopkins  Hos 
pital  of  an  unknown  man  who  had  been  run  over  by 
an  automobile  truck  at  the  corner  of  Baltimore  and 
Frederick  Streets.  The  chauffeur  of  the  truck,  the  article 
stated,  had  been  released  by  the  authorities, — the  acci 
dent,  apparently,  having  been  unavoidable. 

The  young  Rabbi,  as  he  sat  comfortably  at  his  soli 
tary  breakfast,  began  soberly  a  new  appraisal  of  his 
powers  and  shortcomings. 

Here  was  a  man  whom  he  should  have  been  able  to 
understand,  and  yet  could  not.  There  was  a  large  meas 
ure  of  truth  in  David  Gordon's  dogmatic  statement  that 
his  lack  of  comprehension  was  complete — not  a  mere  mat 
ter  of  language.  Philip  subjected  himself  to  a  hasty  self- 
examination  and  was  forced  to  concede  his  almost  com 
plete  ignorance  of  the  lives,  the  work  and  the  hopes  of 
the  poor  of  all  races,  and  particularly  of  his  own.  He 

78 


PUBLIC  PENANCE 

knew  them  only  through  literature  and  his  vivid  imagina 
tion.  Well,  that  was  bad,  to  be  sure,  and  something  he 
should  have  thought  of  earlier.  On  the  other  hand,  with 
all  this  lack  of  knowledge,  he  had,  within  a  few  hours  of 
his  subsequent  disaster,  succeeded  in  procuring  a  sum 
of  money  which  would  bring  comfort  during  the  whole 
winter,  to  hundreds  of  men  no  less  important  than  the 
forlorn  immigrant  whom  he  had  so  signally  failed  in  his 
death  hour.  At  the  worst,  he  had  his  uses. 

The  minister,  however,  was  not  content  with  so  pro 
saic  a  conclusion  of  his  stock-taking.  It  was  virtually  an 
admission  of  the  truth  of  David  Gordon's  scathing  esti 
mate  of  his  worth  to  the  community.  He  was  not  going 
to  become  a  mere  "  apostle  to  the  genteel "  of  his  own 
race.  He  twisted  uneasily  in  his  chair  at  the  idea. 

He  was  the  product  of  faulty  ideals  of  rabbinical 
training;  his  congregation,  who  expected  nothing  better 
of  him,  were  no  less  blind  than  he  had  been.  Still,  it 
would  be  his  own  fault  if  he  were  not  quickened  to  a 
passionate  desire  to  teach  himself  the  things  he  must 
learn  if  he  meant  to  accomplish  his  Divine  Mission  of 
Brotherhood — yes,  and  to  teach  it  to  his  congregation,  too. 

He  decided  that,  tragic  as  had  been  the  fate  of  this 
mangled  creature  at  the  Hospital,  his  death  must  not  be 
allowed  to  become  purposeless.  It  should  serve  as  a 
milestone  in  the  important  life  of  Philip  Graetz.  He  saw 
nothing  grotesque  in  one  man  thus  dying  obscurely,  in 
order  that  he,  himself,  might  live  in  a  blaze  of  heightened 
spiritual  splendor.  He  did  not,  in  fact,  consider  that 
phase  of  the  situation  at  all.  On  the  other  hand,  if  his 
reflections  were  saturate^  with  egotism,  no  one  could 
have  been  less  conscious  of  it  than  he.  He  was  con- 

79 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

sumed,  as  the  first  step  of  his  renewed  vigor  and  use 
fulness,  with  a  desire  to  make  full  atonement  for  his 
presumptuous  ignorance.  He  wanted  to  acknowledge  his 
fault  and  proclaim  its  pitiful  consequences.  He  intended 
to  seek  helpful  guidance  in  learning  to  become  more 
useful — no  matter  how  distateful  the  lessons  might  be. 
He  would  not  be  content  with  the  easy  adulation  in  which 
he  had  basked.  He  would  even  conquer  his  aversion  to 
David  Gordon's  unconcealed  assumption  of  superiority, 
and  crave  at  his  hands  whatever  help  the  lawyer,  with 
his  intimate  knowledge  of  conditions  among  Russian  Jews, 
might  have  to  offer. 

Because  his  vanity  had  been  so  sorely  bruised  by  this 
unfortunate  adventure,  and  he  shrank  timidly  from  the 
ridicule  of  which  he  judged  himself  deserving,  Philip 
decided  his  penance  ought  to  include  some  public  recital 
of  his  failure  to  translate  his  ideals  into  actuality.  His 
congregation  had  witnessed  each  of  his  small  triumphs. 
The  community  would  be  buzzing  this  morning  with 
comment  upon  the  success  of  his  appeal  for  the  relief 
funds.  They  should  hear,  no  less  publicly,  of  the  disaster 
wrought  by  his  feebleness.  It  would  not  be  an  easy  task, 
but  he  would  do  it.  And  he  did  do  it,  too.  On  the  next 
succeeding  Sabbath  he  preached  what  was  certainly  the 
least  conventional  sermon  which  had  ever  been  delivered 
in  a  Jewish  Temple  within  the  memory  of  any  of  his 
listeners. 

Without  the  faintest  effort  at  self -exculpation,  he 
told,  with  unaffected  earnest  eloquence,  the  entire  story 
of  his  visit  to  the  Hospital.  He  omitted  no  detail  of 
the  immigrant's  pathetic  reliance  upon  him  and  of  his 
despair  when  he  had  discovered  himself,  all  too  late,  to 

80 


PUBLIC  PENANCE 

be  a  victim  of  the  fact  that  the  world  of  Jews  is  made 
up,  even  to  a  dying  man,  of  rich  and  poor,  of  native- 
born  and  aliens.  Under  the  spell  of  Philip's  gift  for 
pregnant  words,  the  simple  happening  became  epic  with 
a  compelling  pathos  and  irresistibly  significant  in  its 
wider  import. 

All  this  had  occurred  because  he,  Philip  Graetz,  had 
not  known  the  elementary  duties  pertaining  to  the  com 
mon  bond  which  knits  together  all  men  born  of  women, 
and  most  of  men,  all  Jews  whose  fathers  stood  together, 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  in  their  death-defying  struggle  to 
preserve  God's  Truth  to  the  world. 

He,  their  Rabbi,  meant  in  all  humility  and  recognition 
of  his  past  wanton  neglect  of  duty,  to  learn  these  things, 
so  that  his  faith  might  be  more  than  idle  words.  He  im 
plored  the  men  and  women  who  looked  to  him  for  guid 
ance  to  join  with  him  in  the  difficult  tasks  he  meant  to 
accomplish.  There  must  be  developed,  first  in  this  city 
to  which  he  had  dedicated  himself,  and  thereafter 
throughout  the  earth,  a  comprehension  and  a  sympathy, 
between  all  Jews — no  matter  what  the  land  of  their  birth, 
no  matter  how  poor  and  unlettered,  or  powerful  and  wise, 
they  might  be.  And  when  Israel  had  set  its  own  house 
in  order,  how  could  it  be  otherwise  than  that  this  uni 
versal  talisman  of  love — at  once  human  and  Divine — 
should  be  eagerly  claimed  by  all  mankind ! 

"  Out  of  Zion  should  go  forth  the  teaching  proclaimed 
by  Moses  of  old  that  Man  should  love  his  neighbor  as 
himself." 

Philip  had  sincerely  intended  his  sermon  to  be  a  frank 
confession  of  weakness.  He  had  unsparingly  yielded 
himself  up  to  criticism  and  scoffing.  With  unalloyed  sur- 

6  81 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

prise,  he  observed  the  effect  of  what  he  had  said.  He 
could  have  spoken  no  words  which  would  have  brought 
him  a  more  genuine  tribute  of  his  congregation's  rever 
ence  and  affection.  His  very  boyishness  and  unassumed 
contrition  regarding  a  circumstance  they  could  not  con 
sider  a  very  grievous  lapse  raised  him  to  a  loftier  emi 
nence  in  their  regard.  Never  before  had  he  seemed  to 
them  so  thoroughly  good,  and  free  from  the  vices  they 
recognized  in  their  own  hearts,  as  today. 

It  was  a  tragic  little  story  to  which  they  had  listened, 
and  as  he  had  told  it,  it  had  made  a  poignant  appeal. 
There  was  many  a  self-satisfied  tear  shed  during  the 
recital.  Philip  naively  accepted  these  tears  without  any 
doubts,  but  really,  they  were  tokens  of  the  type  of  grief 
one  thoroughly  enjoys  as  a  proof  of  his  own  unusually 
delicate  sensibilities;  such  unrestrained  emotion  as  we 
love  to  display  under  the  spell  of  a  great  tragedian. 

The  congregation,  itself,  was  not  too  prone  to  self- 
analysis.  In  a  manner  it  actually  was  moved.  Had 
Philip's  sermon  closed  with  another  appeal  for  funds, 
many  of  his  auditors  would  have  willingly  deprived  them 
selves  of  some  pleasant  little  luxury  by  way  of  response 
to  his  plea.  The  men  and  women  who  had  heard  his 
words  were,  for  the  time  at  least,  profoundly  sympa 
thetic  toward  their  less  fortunate  brothers  and  sisters. 
They  would,  in  fact,  have  made  any  sacrifice  to  bring 
them  happiness — provided,  of  course,  it  was  not  unrea 
sonable,  and  had  no  tendency  to  disturb  existing  economic 
conditions  or  the  niceties  of  social  distinctions. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
CONCERNING  LOVE — SACRED  AND  PROFANE 

PHILIP  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry  when 
he  realized  how  the  public  penance  to  which  he  had  con 
demned  himself  had  been  transformed  into  another  petty 
triumph.  It  was  certainly  pleasant  not  to  have  forfeited 
the  affection  and  admiration  of  these  adoring  people.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  they  were  so  blind  when  his  failures 
were  called  to  their  attention,  would  he  find  them  alert 
and  helpful  when  called  upon  to  act  as  lieutenants  in 
his  long  and  arduous  campaign  of  regeneration  ?  Mean 
time,  however,  he  was  not  unwilling  to  content  himself 
with  the  knowledge  of  having  fulfilled  to  the  utmost  his 
duty  of  open  confession. 

He  did,  however,  feel  that  between  Ruth  and  himself 
some  clearer  perception  of  actual  values  should  exist. 
He  was  vaguely  looking  forward  to  a  possible  marriage 
with  this  girl.  She  ought,  he  believed,  to  have  a  definite 
knowledge  of  what  was  in  his  thoughts,  if  for  no  other 
reason,  so  that  her  choice  of  him  might  be  the  true  ex 
pression  of  her  nature.  So  young  was  Philip  Graetz ! 

He  found  her,  at  their  next  meeting,  lounging  luxuri 
ously  amongst  a  great  pile  of  vividly-colored  cushions  in 
the  Frank  living-room.  She  had  been  reading  when  he 
was  announced,  and  though  she  expected  him,  she  chose 
to  hold  out  her  hand  in  greeting,  without  changing  her 
extremely  becoming  posture.  Still,  her  smile  made  up  in 
warmth  whatever  was  lacking  in  the  cordiality  of  his 
reception. 

83 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Ruth,  since  last  Saturday's  sermon,  had  been  doing 
her  share  of  thinking  regarding  her  young  minister;  and 
the  more  she  thought  the  more  puzzled  she  grew.  She 
realized  how  much  his  enthusiastic,  spiritual  knight- 
errantry  appealed  to  her.  It  was  that  which  had  caught 
her  fancy  at  the  beginning.  She  would  not  wish  him  to 
lose  it  now.  Yet  he  should  not  be  permitted  to  make  a 
really  "  uncomfortable  person  "  of  himself,  and  much  as 
she  had  thrilled  at  the  artistry  of  his  sermon,  she  became, 
for  the  first  time,  dimly  apprehensive  lest  further  progress 
in  the  path  he  proposed  might  lead  him  to  the  verge  of 
distasteful  fanaticism.  Bayard  and  Sir  Launcelot  were 
delightfully  graceful  figures  of  chivalry;  Don  Quixote 
was  no  less  noble,  surely,  yet  his  performances,  perhaps 
just  because  of  their  deadly  sincerity,  had  become  ridicu 
lous.  So  far,  Dr.  Graetz's  feats  of  prowess  had  been 
colorful  without  transcending  the  limits  of  good  taste. 
Ruth  meant  to  conserve,  if  she  could,  all  his  ardor  for 
the  betterment  of  the  world — by  which  she  meant  making 
it  conform  to  her  own  standards  of  living — without  let 
ting  him  become  injured  or  coarsened  in  the  process.  She 
was  not  doing  this  merely  to  mold  her  possible  husband 
along  lines  which  should  make  him  a  pleasant  mate  with 
whom  to  spend  her  life.  She  was  actuated  by  a  genuine 
desire  to  help  him  to  hold  fast  to  his  own  happiness,  much 
as  many  a  well  meaning  mother  urges  her  little  boy  not 
to  be  lured  by  the  neighbor's  children  into  fisticuffs  or 
rough  sports,  from  which,  at  the  best,  he  will  emerge  dis 
reputably  dirty,  and  at  the  worst,  with  a  blackened  eye 
and  a  bleeding  nose. 

She  plunged  without  delay  into  the  topic  uppermost 
in  her  mind. 

84 


CONCERNING  LOVE— SACRED  AND  PROFANE 

"  That  was  a  brave  sermon  of  yours,  Philip,"  she 
began.  They  had  reached  the  stage  where  it  seemed  more 
natural  to  them  to  use  first  names  than  to  be  more  formal. 
"  But  did  you  stop  to  think  before  you  preached  it?  If 
you  had  done  it  a  shade  less  beautifully,  you'd  have  hurt 
yourself  seriously  with  the  congregation.  It  was  your 
way  of  telling  your  story  which  turned  things  in  your 
favor.  You'd  better  not  tempt  Providence  again." 

It  is  hard  to  become  vexed  with  a  pretty  girl  who 
seems  filled  with  solicitude  for  one's  welfare.  Yet  Philip 
was  distinctly  not  pleased. 

"  Don't  you  see,  Ruth,  what  you  feared  was  exactly 
what  I  was  trying  to  bring  about  ?  I  meant  them  to  blame 
me.  They  ought  to.  I  deserved  it." 

"  I  knew  you  would  think  so,"  she  answered.  "  But 
I  don't  like  people  to  blame  you.  There  are  so  many 
good  things  about  you  which  they  can  never  discover, 
that  it  won't  hurt  them  not  to  learn  of  the  one  or  two 
things  they  might  censure." 

He  smiled  tolerantly  as  he  «hook  his  head.  This  was 
not  good  doctrine  either  for  him  or  for  the  girl  who 
might  become  his  wife,  yet  the  incense  burned  before  his 
shrine  by  this  charming  young  priestess  did,  in  truth,  have 
a  pleasant  fragrance. 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  so  much  of  the  congregation  as  of 
myself,"  he  explained.  "  I  was  disappointed  in  myself. 
I  wanted  to  make  a  fresh  start.  That  seemed  to  me  the 
logical  way  to  begin.  Now  I  am  committed  to  something. 
I'll  have  to  do  something  definite  whether  I  want  to  or 
not.  I  can't  feed  myself  on  words." 

For  her  part,  she  had  no  fault  to  find  with  his  stimu- 

85 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

lating,  thoughtful  "  words."  They  were  the  greatest  of 
his  charms. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  she  said  with  gentle  dissent. 
"  We've  talked,  again  and  again,  you  know,  about  your 
ideals.  I  thought  it  was  your  theory  that  the  world 
was  to  be  moved  by  personal  influence.  You  were  to 
stir  us  to  become  more  worth  while,  and  each  of  us  would 
in  turn,  influence  his  companions.  How  can  this  be  done 
except  by  what  you  call  '  talking.'  "• 

"  We've  got  to  act  some,  too,"  he  insisted.  "  I've 
decided  words  have  no  influence  if  they  aren't  coupled 
with  deeds.  I've  got  to  do  some  of  the  things  I  urge 
other  people  to  do." 

"  You  mean  personal  service  work  among  the  poor?  " 
she  inquired  doubtfully.  "  That's  what  your  sermon 
really  implies,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

It  made  the  young  Rabbi  wince  to  hear  his  vision 
called  by  this  bedraggled  name.  Yet  he  could  think  of 
no  better  phrase  to  express  his  idea. 

"  Something  like  that,"  he  conceded,  "  but  with  a 
different  spirit.  We've  been  trying  to  help  the  poor, 
and  particularly,  the  immigrant  poor,  because  we  felt  it 
to  be  an  unpleasant  duty.  That's  why  we've  never  made 
any  progress.  We  ought  to  do  it  because  we  really  care, 
just  as  you'd  want  to  help  me  if  I  were  unhappy,  or  I, 
you.  I  couldn't  go  home  tonight  to  my  warm,  cosy  room 
and  be  comfortable  there,  if  I  knew  you  were  wretched 
and  I  could  help  you.  Yet  there  are  thousands  of  men 
and  women  whose  lives  haven't  even  a  memory  of  happi 
ness  in  them,  and  we  amuse  ourselves, — and  forget !  " 

Ruth  was  sincerely  stirred  by  the  passionate  words 
he  spoke,  and  the  true  emotion  that  rang  in  each  syllable. 

86 


CONCERNING  LOVE— SACRED  AND  PROFANE 

Yet  she  was  not  convinced.  She  had  the  faculty — per 
haps  racial — of  being  roused  to  a  state  of  keen  emotional 
excitement,  while  her  critical  judgment  remained  judici 
ously  unaffected.  At  one  and  the  same  instant,  she 
realized  how  fine  and  lovable  were  Philip's  unselfish  aims, 
and  how  sad  was  the  inevitable  disillusion  which  lay 
before  him. 

If  he  could  only  find  it  possible  to  hold  his  beliefs 
unimpaired,  and  to  continue  to  speak  of  them  with  his 
peculiar  ardor,  without  ever  putting  them  to  the  cold  test 
of  actuality!  But  a  sharp  and  sudden  flash  of  compre 
hension  warned  her  that  even  if  she  could  find  it  possible 
to  divest  this  man  of  his  intense  romantic  idealism,  he 
could  never  become  the  graceful  hero  she  desired  who 
would  issue  commands  without  himself  entering  the  dusty 
fray.  He  would  become,  instead,  a  conventional  creature 
of  grandiose  phrases,  not  much  better  than  the  really 
efficient  Arthur  Kahn.  It  hurt  her  to  realize  that  she 
could  spare  him  unhappiness  only  at  the  expense  of  the 
quality  in  his  nature  she  was  learning  to  love.  She  was 
not  a  girl  greatly  given  to  shielding  others  from  pain  at 
her  own  expense.  She  had  no  illusions  about  her  own 
unselfishness,  but  at  this  moment  she  was  filled  with  an 
intense  desire  to  bring  happiness  to  this  boy  whom  she 
believed  so  much  better  and  so  much  less  wise  than  her 
self  !  She  had  no  room  for  vexation  at  the  irksome  dilem 
mas  into  which,  as  his  wife,  she  would  be  continually 
forced.  She  was  entirely  willing,  for  the  time  at  least, 
to  follow  in  his  path,  saving  him  as  well  as  she  could,  his 
share  of  the  briers,  even  though  she  believed  his  road 
led  to  irretrievable  disaster. 

When  she  roused  herself  to  speech,  her  words  re- 
87 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

fleeted  these  thoughts.  She  would  not  quench  the  flame 
which  glowed  in  his  spirit,  no  matter  what  befell. 

"If  anyone  can  do  the  things  you  hope  for,  you  can 
do  them,"  she  said  with  a  genuine  humility.  "  You're 
better  than  most  of  us — men  or  women,  either.  Oh,  yes, 
you  are !  "  she  exclaimed,  anticipating  his  protest.  "  Now, 
I  couldn't  do  anything  for  anybody  but  myself,"  she  went 
on,  resuming  her  natural  tone.  "  I've  tried  it,  and  I  know. 
So  your  hopes  are  based  on  all  men  and  women  being 
less  selfish  than  I  am." 

"  Don't  jest  about  it,"  he  urged  seriously.  "  I  don't 
believe  you're  selfish.  It's  just  that  you  haven't  thought 
of  such  things  before." 

Ordinarily,  Ruth  would  have  smiled  her  pretty  smile 
which  she  had  always  found  far  more  convincing  of  her 
complete  loveliness  of  character  than  mere  sober  virtues 
could  ever  prove ;  but  in  tonight's  mood  she  was  possessed 
by  a  pale  reflection  of  Philip's  own  rigid  determination  to 
seem  nothing  other  than  what  she  truly  was.  She  desired 
so  greatly  his  affection  for  the  real  Ruth,  with  all  her 
human  frailties  and  shortcomings,  that  she  feared  to  have 
him  bestow  his  love  upon  an  imagined  Ruth  of  fanciful 
perfections.  So  she  replied  half  in  mirth,  yet  with  a  rue 
ful  spirit  of  contrition  underlying  her  words: 

"  You're  wrong.  Robert  says  my  only  true  religion 
is  expressed  in  the  creed  '  Thou  shalt  love  thyself,  thy 
God,  with  all  thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  soul  and  with  all 
thy  might.'  And  I'm  afraid  he's  right." 

"  I  have  a  relative  or  two  myself,"  Philip  interposed. 
"  My  uncle's  mildest  judgment  on  me  is  that  I'm  a  low- 
grade  imbecile." 

"  Oh,"  laughed  Ruth,  "  but  Robert  adores  me — vices 
88 


CONCERNING  LOVE— SACRED  AND  PROFANE 

and  all.  I  have  to  be  demure,  all  the  time,  to  keep  Bess 
from  growing  jealous." 

Philip's  eyes  seemed  to  find  some  justification  for  the 
alarm  of  the  surgeon's  wife. 

"  Well,"  he  concluded,  "  if  you  force  yourself  to  be 
demure,  you've  one  long  series  of  unselfish  deeds  to  your 
credit." 

"  That's  neat,"  she  retorted,  "  but  unconvincing.  It's 
really  no  effort  for  a  girl  to  be  demure,  if  she  finds  it  be 
coming.  I  do, — or  at  least  I  flatter  myself  so  far.  But 
to  go  back  to  where  we  started,  I  have  done  personal 
service  work,  and  I  made  a  flat,  utter  failure  of  it." 

"  That  just  bears  out  what  I  said,"  Philip  argued. 
"  It  was  because  you  thought  of  it  as  a  duty.  If  we  go 
among  our  fellows,  full  of  a  spirit  of  comradeship,  how 
can  we  help  making  them  understand  ?  " 

"  I  managed  to  keep  them  from  it,"  Ruth  answered, 
"  and  I  don't  believe  I  felt  this  work  to  be  a  duty.  It 
was  in  my  senior  year  at  Goucher  and  I  imagine  I  wanted 
to  play  Lady  Bountiful." 

She  wondered  why  she  felt  impelled  to  tell  unpleasant 
things  about  herself  to  this  man  whose  admiration  she 
wanted  above  all  things  to  win,  but  she  continued  steadily : 

"  It  was  mostly  vanity ;  and  they  didn't  like  it ; — at 
least,  none  of  the  worth-while  ones  did.  I  didn't  like  it, 
either.  Those  who  were  respectful  were  cringing  frauds, 
and  those  who  were  self-respecting  human  animals 
seemed  to  resent  the  way  I  behaved  toward  them.  They 
irritated  me  as  much  as  I  did  them.  I  got  along  better  with 
the  Gentiles  than  the  Jews.  They  behaved  as  though  I 
owed  them  a  debt  and  was  pretty  slow  about  paying  it. 
After  awhile  I  grew  tired  of  it  and  stopped.  It  seemed 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

like  pouring  water  into  a  sieve.  One  never  saw  any 
tangible  results.  Here  and  there  we  helped  someone,  but 
we  couldn't  really  change  conditions " 

He  was  roused  at  once  to  vehement  protest. 

"  We  can  change  conditions.  We  must.  We  will  win 
the  confidence  of  the  men  and  women  who  are  poor  and 
unhappy.  Then  we'll  learn  from  them  what  is  the  real 
cause  of  it  all  and  when  we  once  know  what  to  do,  there 
will  be  no  one  who  won't  want  to  make  things  better.  No 
one  likes  to  think  he  is  responsible  for  another  person's 
misery." 

"  No,"  she  agreed,  "  but  it's  not  so  simple  as  you 
make  it." 

He  was  reminded  unpleasantly  of  the  parallel  between 
her  phrase  and  David  Gordon's. 

"  The  poor  are  miserable  because  they  haven't  enough 
money.  If  you  give  them  more  it  must  be  ours.  Most 
of  us  aren't  vicious,  exactly,  but  we  don't  see  how  it  will 
better  the  world  to  make  everyone's  life  ugly  and  monot 
onous  because  most  people's  must  be." 

"  I  don't  want  to,"  he  replied,  "  I  want,  on  the  con 
trary,  to  make  everyone's  life  as  beautiful  as  yours. 
There  must  be  some  way  to  do  it.  We  will  find  it  when 
enough  of  us  really  desire  it  ardently.  The  world  has 
always  found  what  it  felt  it  must  have." 

"  It's  a  task  for  a  mathematician,"  she  concluded,  and 
then  perceiving  acutely  that  he  was  not  entirely  satisfied 
with  her,  she  added  quickly,  "  or  a  prophet,  and  I'm  com 
ing  to  believe  you  are  something  of  a  prophet.  Only 
remember  the  multitude  have  a  habit  of  stoning  their 
prophets.  It's  that  I  was  thinking  of." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  that,"  he  proclaimed  sturdily. 
90 


CONCERNING  LOVE— SACRED  AND  PROFANE 

"  I  know,"  she  answered,  "  that's  why  I'm  afraid  of 
it  for  you." 

He  was  surprised  to  find  himself  more  gratified  by 
this  girlish  attitude  of  solicitude  for  his  safety  than  he 
would  have  been  by  her  prompt  acceptance  of  his  plans. 
She  was  quick  to  note  this,  and  was  glad.  She  had  found 
it  possible  to  be  her  own  self  without  repelling  him.  She 
pushed  her  advantage  a  step  further. 

"  You  know,"  she  went  on,  "  it's  a  woman's  nature  to 
be  interested  in  the  individual  happiness  of  the  few  people 
she  cares  about.  I'm  afraid  whatever  enthusiasm  I  have 
in  your  ideas,  is  altogether  because  they're  yours.  If  they 
mean  danger  for  you,  I'd  rather  the  people  you  want  to 
aid  went  without  it.  If  they  mean  your  happiness,  I 
want  to  help !  " 

"  They  do  mean  my  happiness,"  he  answered,  deeply 
touched  at  the  devotion  he  had  awakened  in  this  generous 
girl  who  seemed  to  him/  so  pliant  and  so  much  his  own. 
"  I  shall  count  on  your  help." 

She  pledged  it  with  her  irresistible  smile,  and  both  of 
them  were  illogically  happy  as  their  thoughts  turned  to 
more  personal  topics.  She  had  discovered  her  inability 
to  sway  him  as  she  would,  even  to  serve  what  she  con 
sidered  his  own  needs.  If  she  were  to  win  his  love,  it 
must  be  done  at  the  price  of  her  submission.  She  was 
willing  to  pay  that  price — was  even  filled  with  joy  at  the 
thought.  He,  for  his  part,  had  misunderstood  her  true 
character  tonight  more  than  ever  before,  in  spite  of  her 
earnest  effort  to  reveal  herself  to  him.  He  mistook  her 
solicitude  for  timidity ;  her  confession  of  imperfection  for 
evidences  of  an  almost  morbid  conscientiousness;  her 
surrender  of  her  views  to  his  own,  as  the  frank  accept- 

91 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ance  of  his  superior  wisdom.  Yet  despite  this  total  lack 
of  comprehension,  he  left  her  home  feeling  more  strongly 
than  ever  bound  to  her.  She  had  asserted  with  gentle 
but  compelling  force,  a  claim  he  was  unable  and  unwilling 
to  resist.  It  had  been  clearly  revealed  to  him  how  much 
he  had  taught  her  to  entwine  her  thouhgts  and  her  fancies 
about  himself.  She  was  willing  to  adapt  her  own  theories 
to  his.  She  became  unhappy  at  the  thought  of  his  dis 
aster.  It  never  occurred  to  the  young  minister  to  sup 
pose  all  this  had  not  been  his  own  handiwork.  He  fancied 
he  had  found  Ruth  young,  impressionable,  and  without  a 
definite  idea  regarding  marriage,  and  he  had  without  any 
such  intention,  stamped  his  own  indelible  image  upon  the 
white  innocence  of  her  imagination.  This  being  accom 
plished,  it  could  never  be  erased — and  he  was  not  at  all 
sure  he  would  wish  it  to  be.  She  was  a  dear  girl — not 
a  heroic  helpmate  for  a  prophet,  to  be  sure,  but  none 
the  less  sweet  for  her  feminine  lack  of  Spartan  firmness. 

It  gave  him  curious  sensations  of  pride  and  awe  to 
recall  with  what  frank  freedom  from  coquetry  this  beau 
tiful  young  girl  displayed  her  deep  affection  for  him.  He 
did  not  intend' to  fail  her.  He  could  not  delude  himself 
into  investing  her  with  the  almost  goddess-like  qualities  of 
mind  and  spirit  of  which  his  dream-wife  had  been 
blended.  But  there  would  be  compensations  in  her  ador 
able  dependence  upon  his  protecting  strength  and  courage. 
He  smiled  to  himself  as  he  pictured  their  future,  and  at 
that  same  minute,  in  her  own  luxurious  room,  Ruth,  all 
aglow  with  strange  and  delicious  anticipations  of  a  life 
time  of  self-sacrificing  devotion,  was  smiling,  too. 


92 


CHAPTER  IX 
CONCERNING  JEWS — REFORMED  AND  INCORRIGIBLE 

PHILIP'S  first  effort  toward  understanding  his  less 
fortunate  brethren  naturally  took  the  form  of  lessons 
in  Yiddish.  He  was  essentially  a  student,  and  when  he 
found  himself  incompetent  for  any  special  task,  he  in 
stinctively  turned  for  help  to  a  book  or  a  teacher.  He 
discovered  among  the  undergraduates  at  the  University 
a  young,  impecunious  Russian  Jew  possessed  by  a  fierce 
resolve  to  secure  a  bachelor's  degree,  and  forced  by  grim 
circumstances  to  earn  his  bread  and  tuition  while  he 
studied.  Philip  made  arrangements  to  receive  this  youth 
in  his  study  on  two  afternoons  of  each  week  and  surprised 
his  boyish  tutor — whose  name  was  Israel  Rubin — by 
volunteering  to  pay  him  a  much  larger  sum  than  his 
services  were  actually  worth.  Philip  was  justly  con 
fident  of  acquiring  speedily  a  proficiency  in  the  dialect 
he  had  determined  to  master.  He  had  a  definite  feeling 
for  the  shadings  of  language,  and  he  was  sure  his  fluency 
in  the  use  of  German  'would  make  his  task  an  easy  one. 

He  hoped,  also,  to  learn  from  this  boy  much  more  than 
Yiddish,  but  in  this  expectation  he  was  promptly  dis 
appointed.  Rubin  was  distressingly  deferential,  and  re 
spectfully  conscientious  in  the  instruction  of  his  dis 
tinguished  pupil.  But  he  made  absolutely  no  response  to 
Philip's  attempts  at  more  intimate  exchange  of  thought. 
The  .lessons  took  the  form  of  conversations  in  which 
Rubin  would  ask  some  simple  question  and  correct  what 
ever  blunders  Philip's  answer  might  contain.  The  boy, 

93 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

however,  seemed  insistent  in  confining  the  questions  to 
impersonal  matters.  He  could' not  but  perceive  how  alert 
the  older  man  was  to  grasp  whatever  he  tried  to  impart, 
but  in  spite  of  this  fact,  he  appeared  to  consider  the  Rabbi 
an  odd  specimen,  whose  eccentricities  must  be  tolerated 
with  patience  because  he  was,  after  all,  almost  a  Chris 
tian  and,  therefore,  not  to  be  judged  by  the  same  tests 
as  other  Jews — and  also  because  he  was  amply  able  to 
afford  the  indulgence  of  his  curious  whims.  Rubin  never 
could  decide  why  a  man  who  had  a  job  among  English- 
speaking  people — a  job,  ( too,  commanding  a  salary  con 
sidered  fabulous  by  this  poor  boy — should  want  to  learn 
Yiddish,  when  he  could  already  speak  with  amazing 
fluency  four  other  languages — real  languages — the  kind 
one  had  to  know  to  win  college  degrees.  The  friendli 
ness  of  the  minister's  intentions  to  the  boy  did  not  bring 
them  closer  together.  On  the  contrary,  it  probably  made 
their  relations  more  formal.  At  the  end  of  the  first  les 
son,  Philip,  supposing  vaguely  that  Rubin's  home  was 
not  too  well  provisioned,  had  ordered  a  dainty  tray  to 
be  sent  from  the  Hotel  kitchen  to  his  room.  Afternoon 
tea  was  not  one  of  Dr.  Graetz's  habits,  but  with  delicate 
good  breeding  he  allowed  it  to  appear  so,  in  order  that 
he/ might  offer  refreshment  to  his  young  guest  and  teacher. 
He  was  vastly  amazed  at  the  boy's  embarrassed  refusal 
and  a  little  chagrined  at  the  prospect  of  consuming, 
without  aid,  the  English  muffins  for  which  he  had  no  appe 
tite  and  the  tea  he  loathed.  He  pressed  Rubin  for  some 
explanation.  It  was  then  the  turn  of  the  Rabbi  of  a 
heterodox  Temple  to  become  embarrassed,  for  the  inex 
perienced  boy,  unlearned  in  finesse,  blurted  out  his  un 
willingness  to  partake  of  food  which  was  not  "  Kosher  " 

94 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

— not  prepared  according  to  the  dietary  laws  set  forth 
in  the  Scriptures.  An  awkward  moment  followed.  Philip 
could  not  take  offense  at  Rubin's  position,  yet  he,  the 
teacher  in  Israel,  was  certainly  made  to  feel  rebuked  at 
this  greater  rigidity  on  the  part  of  a  young  Jew,  with 
whom  one  could  not  and  ought  not  to  argue.  The  situa 
tion  was  all  the  more  uncomfortable  because  Rubin  did 
not  know  whether  it  would  be  wiser  to  remain,  and  manu 
facture  conversation,  while  Philip  was  served,  or  to  aban 
don  his  host  immediately  after  declining  his  hospitality. 
He  elected  to  remain,  and  they  suffered  together — their 
stilted  conversation  proving  as  distasteful  as  the  despised 
tea. 

After  this  experience,  Philip's  hopes  of  gaining, 
through  Israel  Rubin,  any  real  insight  into  down-town 
Jewish  conditions  grew  perceptibly  fainter.  After  equip 
ping  himself  with  a  working  knowledge  of  the  dialect,  he 
would  be  able  to  go  out  on  his  own  voyages  of  discovery, 
but  this  would  involve  delay,  and  painful  gropings  in  the 
dark.  He  resolved  to  appeal  to  David  Gordon  for  guid 
ance.  He  did  not  come  to  this  decision  without  misgivings. 
He  knew  he  would  find  in  the  lawyer  a  total  absence  of  the 
pleasant  deference  and  esteem  he  had  grown  accustomed 
to  expect  during  his  short  career  in  Baltimore.  Still, 
Gordon  seemed  to  Philip  to  be  a  man  of  brusque  sincerity, 
given  to  brutal  speech,  but  not  unkind,  in  spite  of  his 
manner.  At  any  rate,  he  must  know  the  very  things 
Philip  desired  to  learn,  and  the  Rabbi  would  be  committed 
to  nothing  as  the  result  of  an  interview. 

He  therefore  telephoned  Gordon  late  one  afternoon 
and  asked  if  he  might  call  on  him  at  his  rooms  that  night, 
or  any  other  night  convenient  to  the  lawyer. 

95 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

David  Gordon  replied  with  a  question  of  his  own : 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

Philip  felt  slightly  rebuffed  in  spite  of  the  cordiality 
of  the  question.  Most  of  the  men  and  women  he  had  met, 
appeared  to  feel  honored  at  his  desire  to  cultivate  their 
acquaintance.  It  was  not  entirely  gratifying  to  have  his 
advances  thus  weighed  and  debated.  Still,  he  stifled  his 
slight  annoyance  and  responded : 

"  Yes,  I  want  some  advice." 

"  Professional  advice?  "  demanded  the  lawyer. 

"  No,"  the  Rabbi  replied  with  audible  impatience. 
"  Personal  advice.  Why  do  you  ask?  Do  you  object  to 
having  me  visit  you  ?  " 

He  could  hear,  over  the  wire,  Gordon's  indulgent 
laugh. 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  was  told,  "  so  far  as  I'm 
concerned,  I'll  really  be  glad  to  spend  an  evening  with  you. 
It  was  yourself  I  was  thinking  of.  The  sheep  you  tend 
won't  like  it.  They  would  really  object  less  if  you  were 
discovered  in  the  home  of  a  disreputable  woman.  Frri  con 
sidered  a  bad  influence." 

Philip  was  hurt  at  David's  words  and  manner  and 
there  was  real  dignity  in  his  answer : 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Gordon,  I  must  have  shown  you  only 
my  worst  qualities.  I'm  not  entirely  the  coward  you  seem 
to  suppose.  I'm  here  to  try  to  teach  my  people  what 
seems  true  to  me,  not  to  be  the  slave  of  their  whims, — 
and  I  have  asked  you  for  the  courtesy  of  an  interview." 

"  Well,  well,"  the  lawyer  answered,  in  a  tone  of  good- 
humored  raillery.  "What  a  gift  for  misunderstanding 
you  Rabbis  have.  I  never  took  you  for  a  coward.  One 
doesn't  waste  his  breath  warning  cowards  of  danger.  You 

96 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

know  I'll  be  glad  to  see  you.  Come  tonight,  by  all  means. 
But  the  best  advice  I  can  give  you  is  to  take  no  advice 
of  mine." 

After  David's  mocking  taunt  about  the  possible  injury 
to  the  minister's  popularity  which  might  follow  any  com 
panionship  between  this  oddly  assorted  pair,  physical  vio 
lence  could  not  have  prevented  Philip  from  keeping  the 
appointment.  He  was  really  a  brave  man  and  the  greatest 
of  his  few  fears  was  the  dread  of  some  day  betraying  a 
lack  of  courage.  In  his  adolescent  days,  his  constant  anx 
iety  to  prove  to  himself  his  indifference  to  danger  had  led 
him  into  queer  situations.  If  David  had  been  animated 
by  a  consuming  desire  for  his  presence,  he  could  have 
chosen  no  better  method  of  bringing  him  to  his  door. 

The  house  on  Madison  Avenue  where  the  lawyer  lived 
had  evidently  been,  many  years  before,  the  homestead  of  a 
family  accustomd  to  spacious  and  luxurious  living.  It  was 
a  large  and  grim  brick  building,  square  and  uncompro 
mising,  set  back  from  the  line  of  the  street  and  boasting  a 
strip  of  lawn  on  one  side,  almost  as  wide  as  the)  house 
itself.  When  the  tide  of  fashion  had  swept  from  this 
section  of  the  City  the  wealthy  old  residents  who  had 
made  their  homes  there,  this  house  had  sunk  from  its 
former  eminence  into  a  crowded  and  ill-cared-for  board 
ing-house.  It  was  then  that  it  first  sheltered  David  Gor 
don — when  he  decided  to  live  up-town  instead  of  in  the 
congested  quarter  of  East  Baltimore  where  he  had  spent 
his  boyhood  and  youth.  Its  location  pleased  him  none  the 
less  because  it  was  unfashionable,  and  threatened  to 
become  more  unfashionable  every  year.  So  loath  was  he 
to  locate  elsewhere  that  he  had  several  times  tided  the 
shiftless  proprietress  of  the  house  over  financial  diffi- 

7  97 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

culties  which  threatened  to  result  in  her  eviction,  and 
consequently,  his  also.  When  she  had  finally  demon 
strated  her  complete  inability  to  meet  any  and  all  of  her 
duties,  Gordon,  whose  practice  had  been  proving  more 
and  more  lucrative,  and  who  had  nothing  but  contempt  for 
the  customary  methods  of  disposing  of  one's  surplus  in 
come,  suddenly  bought  the  house,  and  building  an  addition 
in  the  rear,  transformed  the  structure  into  an  apartment- 
house.  It  looked  very  much  like  what  it  was — neither  a 
home,  nor  a  building  originally  designed  for  its  present 
purpose,  but  David  was  totally  unconcerned  regarding  its 
aesthetic  properties.  After  reserving  the  entire  first  floor 
for  his  own  use,  he  nevertheless  found  his  investment  rea 
sonably  satisfactory. 

Gordon's  rooms,  Philip  decided,  were  not  uncharacter 
istic  of  the  man  himself.  The  furnishings  seemed  selected 
with  an  eye  solely  to  utility.  They  were  substantial — evi 
dently  of  solid  workmanlike  excellence,  not  exactly  ugly, 
but  with  no  pretence  to  beauty,  either.  A  negro  boy  who 
had  appeared  in  answer  to  Philip's  ring  ushered  the  Rabbi 
into  the  lawyer's  study  which  was  at  the  extreme  rear  of 
the  building,  away  from  the  noises  of  the  street.  Three 
sides  of  the  big  room  were  lined  with  dark  oak  sectional 
\  book-cases.  Philip  had  a  book-lover's  affection  for  the 
built-in  open  shelf,  but  Gordon  had  apparently  desired  to 
preserve  his  volumes  as  securely;  as  possible  from  dust. 
Philip's  books  mingled  among  each  other  according  to 
some  mysterious  law  of  elective  affinities  of  their  own 
choosing.  His  copy  of  Browning  was  next  to  his  edition 
of  Whitman.  His  Tennyson  and  his  Shelley  belonged  to 
gether,  he  knew  not  why ;  but  Gordon's  library  was  trim  in 
its  evident  obedience  to  classification.  Two  of  the  walls 

98 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

were  devoted  exclusively  to  law  books ;  the  third  side  to 
books  of  a  more  general  interest,  among  which  Philip 
noticed  with  surprise  that  books  of  a  scientific  and  philoso 
phical  nature,  such  as  those  of  Huxley,  Tyndall,  Darwin, 
Spencer  and  James,  struggled  for  numerical  supremacy 
with  works  on  purely  Jewish  subjects. 

David  Gordon  was  seated  in  the  center  of  the  room  at  a 
huge  table,  covered  with  open  law  books  and  orderly  little 
piles  of  documents.  As  Philip  entered  the  room,  he  care 
fully  and  deliberately  closed  the  volume  he  was  studying, 
after  inserting  a  blank  slip  of  paper  between  its  leaves, — 
and  motioned  the  Rabbi  to  a  chair  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  table  from  himself. 

He  glanced  at  Philip  for  an  instant,  with  his  searching 
half-amused  smile  before  saying: 

"Well,  you're  here!  I'm  afraid  you've  come  to  the 
wrong  shop,  but  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  anyway.  You  don't 
smoke  ?  "  he  added,  indicating  the  cigars  and  cigarettes  at 
the  end  of  the  table,  and  selecting  a  fresh  cigar  for  himself. 

"  No,"  Philip  answered,  with  his  conciliating  smile. 
"  It's  one  of  the  things  I  mean  to  learn,  some  day." 

"  I  would,"  the  lawyer  said,  as  he  lit  his  own  cigar. 
"  It's  a  great  help  to  a  man  who  believes  in  brotherhood. 
Nothing  draws  men  together  so  surely  as  the  possession  of 
a  vice  in  common." 

The  lawyer  was  a  trained  observer  of  witnesses,  and  he 
found  it  easy  to  see  Philip's  sensitive,  shrinking  repug 
nance  for  this  jibe  at  his  pet  ideals.  He  replied  to  Philip's 
unspoken  protest  by  saying : 

"  You  and  I  shall  never  get  on  together  if  you're  going 
to  take  offense  every  time  I  violate  your  standards  of  good 
taste.  The  conventional  forms  of  amusement,— cards, 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

theatres,  athletics — don't  appeal  to  me.  I  get  my  relaxa 
tion  by  saying  whatever  I  happen  to  please — except,  of 
course,  regarding  matters  of  business.  I  even  talk  impu 
dently  to  myself,  when  there's  no  one  else  to  stir  up.  So 
take  it  as  a  matter  of  course ;  let  it  be  understood  you  think 
me  a  malicious  boor,  and  we'll  have  a  comfortable  basis 
for  fellowship." 

Philip  did  not  know  whether  to  smile  or  to  frown.  He 
had  met  young  men  at  college  with  an  overweening  desire 
for  impertinence,  but  they  were  adolescents  unseasoned 
by  the  responsibilities  of  life  and  work.  But  Gordon  was 
a  man  well  over  thirty,  and  a  busy  and  successful  lawyer. 

"  Would  it  be  rude,"  Philip  inquired,  "  if  I  were  to  ask 
how,  with  your  peculiar  views  on  sport,  you  managed  to 
acquire,  and  hold  together  your  clientele  ?  " 

David  smiled  approvingly. 

"  Yes,  rude,  and  therefore,  interesting.  I'm  glad  you 
show  faint  signs  of  being  infected.  I  treat  my  clients  as 
they  deserve.  I  do  their  work  as  they  want  it  done,  and 
make  no  pretences  of  hiding  my  contempt  for  them.  The 
theory  works  out.  A  business  man  dearly  loves  to  bully 
people  and  he  respects  only  the  fellow  who  can  bully  him. 
I've  made  a  study  of  it — I  can  even  make  that  chap  you 
met  at  Frank's — Arthur  Kahn — uncomfortable  some 
times.  The  consequence  is,  they  all  pester  me  to  do  their 
work  for  them.  When  you  take  medicine  you  never 
believe  it's  any  good  unless  it's  bitter." 

Philip  decided  it  would  be  wiser  to  smile,  after  all. 

"  Very  well,"  he  urged,  "  bully  me ;  though  I  came  to 
you  for  advice  before  I  knew  your  philosophy." 

"  Oh,  you  saw  it  in  practice,"  David  insisted.  "  How 
ever,"  he  went  on,  "  my  job  is  law.  I  don't  know  much — 

100 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

and  I  warn  you  I  don't  care  much — about  fine  theories  of 
sugar-coated  life.  It  seems  a  pretty  crude  and  cold 
blooded  proposition  to  me.  With  this  pleasant  introduc 
tion,  I'm  at  your  service." 

Philip  hardly  knew,  after  hearing  David's  blunt  words, 
how  to  approach  the  topic  upon  which  he  wanted  help. 
He  was  an  artist  in  the  use  of  phrases  when  his  auditors 
were  sympathetic  and  receptive.  In  the  face  of  the  law 
yer's  cynicism — real  or  assumed — he  was  embarrassed  and 
tongue-tied. 

David  promptly  came  to  his  assistance  with  a  series 
of  terse,  irreverent  questions. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  Have  your  male  sheep  been 
hectoring  you?  Or  are  the  ewes  making  too  many  sheep's 
eyes  ?  Aren't  you  as  happy  here  as  you  expected  ?  " 

Philip  remembered  David's  words  at  Dr.  Frank's  din 
ner  and  the  recollection  gave  him  his  cue. 

"  I've  been  much  too  happy,"  he  burst  out,  "  and  too 
useless,  just  as  you  prophesied,  if  you  remember.  I  want 
to  get  down  to  some  real  work  and  I  don't  seem  to  find  it 
possible." 

David  scowled.  "  Exactly  what  do  you  want  to  do  ?  " 
he  demanded  sharply. 

Philip  settled  himself  to  a  lengthy  explanation : 

"  The  people  of  Beth  El  are  all  rich,  or  at  least  com 
fortable,"  he  said,  "  that  seems  to  be  the  case  in  all  the 
up-town  Reformed  temples.  But  they  are  only  a  handful 
of  the  Jews  in  the  City.  There  seems  to  be  a  complete 
barrier  between  them  and  the  others.  My  congregation 
ought  to  be  put  to  work  making  things  right  among  the 
down-town  people.  They  seem  to  need  help  badly  enough. 

101 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Everyone  says  so.  We're  the  powerful  ones,  yet  we  do 
nothing.  I  don't  know  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  the 
East  Side  doesn't  send  us  any  message  to  tell  us." 

"  Do  you  mean  charity  ?  "  David  asked  impatiently. 
"You  have  your  Relief  Society.  You  scrape  money 
together.  Let  that  satisfy  you." 

"  It  doesn't  satisfy  me,"  Philip  answered  vehemently. 
"  I'm  not  a  child.  I  know  the  alms-takers  can't  be  repre 
sentative  of  a  majority  of  the  Jewish  population.  I  want 
my  people  to  co-operate  with  the  others.  If  our  culture  is 
superior  to  theirs,  just  as  our  wealth  is,  we  ought  to  be 
willing  to  diffuse  it.  I  want  the  members  of  my  congrega 
tion  to  make  friends  of  the  less  fortunate  Jews ;  to  work 
with  them  in  solving  their  problems — to  make  their  re 
ligion  an  actual  thing.  I  know  you  are  a  skeptic  and 
don't  share  our  beliefs " 

David  broke  in  curtly : 

"  You're  right.     I  certainly  don't !  " 

"I've  no  quarrel  with  that,"  Philip  resumed,  "but 
you've  got  to  reckon  with  the  people  who  do  believe. 
Here's  all  this  force,  power  and  intelligence  going  to  waste 
because  no  one  familiar  with  the  conditions  on  the  East 
Side  is  willing  to  show  me  the  proper  point  of  attack.  I 
came  to  you  because  you  do  know  these  conditions." 

The  lawyer  laid  down  his  cigar  and  looked  straight 
into  the  eyes  of  the  younger  man. 

"I  don't  see  why  I  should  bother  to  save  you  from 
the  trouble  you  seem  resolved  to  find.  But  I  can't  help 
it,  and  I'm  going  to  tell  you  the  ugly  truth.  You  don't 
&ftow  East  Side  conditions,  but  you  could  learn  them, 
with  or  without  help.  The  trouble  with  you  is,  you  don't 
know  the  conditions  on  your  own  side  of  the  town.  And 

102 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

you  never  will  learn  them  till  it's  too  late  to  save  your\ 
skin.  Anyhow,  I'll  tell  you  a  few.  Yqur  congregation  \ 
likes  to  hear  you  indulge  in  vague  talk  about  human 
brotherhood;  the  merest  semblance  of  the  actual  thing 
would  horrify  the  women,  and  enrage  the  men.  The 
down-town  Jews  are  Russian.  The  up-town  Jews  are  / 
American  by  birth,  and  German  by  descent.  The  one/ 
group  is  above  the  poverty  line — employers  mostly.  The 
other  group  is  on  the  border  line  or  below  it,  and  they're 
employees.  You  and  your  crowd  give  some  sort  of  an 
allegiance  to  a  denatured  Judaism.  I  and  mine,  so  far  as 
we  have  any  religion  left,  are  rigidly  orthodox.  So  there 
you  have  a  whole  catalogue  of  reasons  for  hates.  Your 
group  has  had  all  the  best  of  it  so  far, — easy  lives,  easy 
faith,  easy  education  and  an  easy  superiority.  Mine  has 
barely  begun  to  become  conscious  of  itself.  Only  yester 
day  it  stopped  being  meek  and  began  to  take  stock  of  its 
own  grievances.  Your  men  are  beginning  to  be  afraid  of 
us.  They  notice  we  no  longer  accept  their  Divine  right  of 
lording  it  over  us.  They  think  our  uncouth,  immigrant 
ways  do  the  Jews  in  general,  and  particularly,  their  com 
fortable  selves,  no  good  among  the  Christians.  And  now 
you  come  with  bland  words  asking  the  upper  dog  to 
release  his  grip!  If  you  try  to  force  him,  he'll  turn  and 
bite  you !  " 

"  Let  him  bite,  then !  "  Philip  shot  back  at  him.  "  I 
stand  for  Justice.  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  picture  you 
draw?" 

"  I  state  facts  as  they  are,  not  as  they  ought  to  be,"  the 
lawyer  affirmed.  "  Will  the  fight  stop  after  you're  bitten  ? 
Certainly  not.  And  don't  flatter  yourself  you'll  get  any 
help  from  the  other  side.  To  them  you're  as  alien  as  they 

103 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

are  to  you,  for  all  your  patter  about  a  common  religion. 
Keep  on  good  terms  with  your  own  clan, — talk  to  them 
pleasantly,  and  do  gracefully  what  they  pay  you  to  do. 
There's  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  in  such  a  life.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  you  try  to  meddle  with  something  too  big 
for  any  man  to  deal  with,  you'll  do  more  harm  than  good, 
and  get  torn  into  shreds,  besides." 

The  lawyer  replaced  his  cigar  in  his  mouth  with  an 
air  of  finality,  and  relighted  it  after  a  gesture  of  annoy 
ance  at  finding  it  had  gone  out  during  his  harangue. 

Philip  sat  silently  thinking  a  moment  before  returning 
stubbornly  to  the  attack. 

"  Our  point  of  difference,"  he  decided,  "  lies  in  your 
belief  that  men  will  be  unaffected  by  the  teachings  of  their 
Religion.  That's  natural  for  you  who  have  no  beliefs,  but 
hard  for  me  to  imagine.  Even  if  things  are  as  hopeless 
as  you  say,  what's  the  value  of  a  faith  unless  it  sets  to 
work  to  remedy  them  ?  " 

"  No  value  at  all,"  David  replied  cheerfully,  "  you 
can't  quarrel  with  me  on  that  score." 

"  If  I  accepted  your  conclusions,  I'd  resign  from  the 
Rabbinate  tonight,"  Philip  declared. 

"  That  would  be  a  pity,"  the  lawyer  responded.  "  You 
have  a  real  gift  for  oratory,  and  it's  become  an  obsolete 
art  among  lawyers  and  politicians." 

Philip,  stung  to  real  anger,  forgot  his  habitual  dignity 
and  tolerance. 

"  Fortunately,"  he  blazed,  "  I  have  some  gift  for  sin 
cerity,  too.  That  isn't  obsolete  in  my  pulpit  whatever  it 
may  be  at  the  Bar." 

David,  instead  of  becoming  correspondingly  angry, 
laughed  admiringly. 

104 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

"  You're  an  apt  pupil,"  he  said,  "  now  listen.  I 
don't  doubt  your  sincerity.  It's  your  common  sense  which 
seems  to  be  lacking.  You  speak  of  the  force  of  Religion. 
I  believe  that  force  to  be  almost  extinct.  You  don't.  But 
you  must  believe  Religion,  even  in  its  prime,  was  weaker 
than  human  nature.  You've  read  history.  Here's  a  state 
of  war — an  economic  struggle,  a  class  consciousness,  a 
race  hatred,  a  fight  between  aristocracy  and  democracy, 
all  bundled  into  one,  and  you  come  along  telling  passion 
ate  men — who  are  in  deadly  earnest — to  forget  what  they 
want  and  what  they  hate, — in  the  name  of  Judaism !  Bah ! 
And  it  isn't  even  an  authentic  Judaism  you  offer  them.  It's 
a  pale  sentimental  imitation  of  Christianity,  with  the 
Christ  left  out." 

David  silenced  sternly  Philip's  horrified  exclamation  of 
dissent  at  this  crowning  blasphemy. 

"  Don't  try  to  debate  it  with  me,"  he  commanded,  "  I 
don't  want  to  convince  you.  What  difference  does  it  make 
which  of  us  is  right,  if  I  and  my  people  feel  as  I  say, — 
and  we  do  feel  it.  We  think  your  soft  talk  about  loving 
the  man  you  sneer  at  and  underpay,  is  just  part  of  a  bad 
imitation  of  that  Christianity  which  has  conquered  the 
civilized  world  by  abandoning  its  own  cardinal  teachings. 
We  think  you,  yourselves,  are  only  more  or  less  success 
ful  imitations  of  Christians — in  your  lives,  in  your  studies 
and  in  the  culture  you're  so  proud  of,  though  nobody 
knows  why.  It  never  can  be  as  good  as  the  original,  and 
the  original  doesn't  fill  us  with  any  thrills  of  admiration." 

"  You're  talking  unutterable  nonsense,"  Philip  ex 
claimed  hotly.  "  Just  because  you're  too  blind  to  see 
virtue  in  any  religion — Reformed  or  Orthodox " 

"Don't  get  excited!"  David  interrupted.  "You're 
105 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

right,  though  not  in  just  the  way  you  mean.  It's  silly  for 
me  to  let  this  talk  degenerate  into  a  barren  discussion 
about  dogmas,  and  superior  and  inferior  cultures.  The 
vital  part  is  this:  to  every  East  Side  Jew,  except  the 
handful  who  have  made  enough  money  to  belong  in  spirit 
in  your  own  camp — you  are  the  hired  man  of  Clarence 
Kaufman  and  his  kind.  As  such,  they'll  have  no  more 
to  do  with  you  than  if  you  were  a  Roman  Catholic.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  you  tear  yourself  adrift  from  your  well- 
to-do  congregation,  and  go  down  alone  among  these  unfor 
tunates  who  can  get  along  just  as  well  without  you — you 
will  have  cut  yourself  off  from  your  base  of  supplies, — 
of  money,  influence  and  Christianized  culture.  You  have 
nothing  to  offer  them  but  the  pleasure  of  associating  with 
your  exceedingly  well-meaning  self.  You  needn't  take  my 
word  for  this.  You  have  only  to  make  the  experiment." 

David  was  talking  soberly  and  impressively  now,  and 
Philip  pondered  for  several  minutes  before  replying. 
Finally,  he  said : 

"  I  know  you  are  trying  to  tell  me  what  you  think  is 
true ;  yet  I'm  sure  you  must  be  wrong.  You  manage  to 
have  friends  in  what  you  call  both  camps.  Why  can't  I  ?  " 

"  Friends  ?  "  repeated  David  grimly.  "  Clients,  you 
mean.  During  working  hours,  the  lawyer  is  a  free  lance. 
He  fights  fairly,  and  without  pretences  for  the  man  who 
employs  him ;  meanwhile,  he  is  really  serving  himself. 
Besides,  I  don't  want  to  be  taken  with  absolute  literalness. 
You  can  make  a  fair  sprinkling  of  East  Side  friends,  if 
you  use  tact  and  meet  them  on  a  purely  personal  basis. 
What  you  want  is  to  let  loose  on  them  your  well-fed,  up 
town  flock.  You  can't  do  it.  If  Savonarola  and  John 

106 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

Knox  could  be  rolled  into  one  and  turned  Jew,  the  com 
bined  prophet  couldn't  do  it." 

Philip  sat  silent,  his  attitude  one  of  dejection,  but  his 
lips  set  in  a  line  of  stubborn  determination. 

"  It's  no  fun  killing  people's  enthusiasms,"  David 
remarked,  with  some  effort  at  consolation,  "  but  I'm  not 
much  given  to  chasing  rainbows,  and  you  would  know 
what  was  in  my  mind." 

Philip's  composure  had  by  this  time  returned  and 
he  was  able  to  smile  pleasantly. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  not  altogether  a  successful  mur 
derer,"  he  observed,  "  the  corpse  has  yet  to  be  convinced 
of  its  demise." 

"  Yes,"  David  replied  dryly  "  enthusiasms  are  like  cats 
or  lies,  in  the  number  of  deaths  they  can  survive." 

Philip  laughed. 

"  You  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  came  here  to  ask  the 
question  *  how  '  and  you  merely  answered  *  don't ! '  It 
isn't  responsive.  I  suppose  that's  why  I  can't  accept  it  as 
final." 

"  It's  final  so  far  as  I'm  concerned,"  David  answered. 
"  Let's  talk  about  something  else." 

"  In  one  minute,"  Philip  said  eagerly.  "  I  think  I  owe 
it  to  you,  and  to  myself,  to  tell  you  why  I  wouldn't  adopt 
your  view-point  even  if  it's  true — which  I  can't  believe. 
It  would  make  me  perfectly  indifferent  to  Life.  If  there's 
nothing  on  the  earth  worth-while,  we  have  to  pretend  there 
is.  According  to  you,  my  congregation  are  all  smug  hypo 
crites — consciously  or  unconsciously — and  the  Down 
town  Jews  are  merely  different  instead  of  better.  The 
world  is  all  made  up  of  hatreds,  Religion  is  a  silly  super 
stition,  and  my  own  place  in  it  is  to  be  a  sort  of  intellect- 

107 


I 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ual  vaudeville  artist.  I  couldn't  go  on  with  existence  on 
such  terms.  If  everything  were  just  as  you  say,  I'd  want 
— as  I  do  now — to  fashion  my  own  vision,  and  work  to 
make  the  dream  come  true, — even  if  I  killed  myself  in  the 
effort.  Hasn't  everything  worth-while  in  history  hap 
pened  because  some  man  had  a  vision  more  beautiful  than 
the  sordid  odds  and  ends  of  facts,  which  practical  men 
mistook  for  the  whole  of  life?  " 

"  You  poor  '  kid,'  "  David  exclaimed.  "  You're  incor 
rigible  !  Well,  go  earn  your  martyr's  crown,  if  you  will, 
and  never  have  it  assayed  to  make  sure  it  isn't  brass. 
Perhaps  you're  lucky,  after  all !  " 

"  I  am,"  Philip  affirmed  exultingly.  "  As  for  you, 
you  must  be  miserably  unhappy.  Don't  you  see  any  hope 
for  the  Jew  at  all  ?  " 

"Yes,"  David  said  with  decision,  "  Zionism!  " 

Philip  broke  into  a  peal  of  hearty  laughter. 

"  I  suppose  there  must  be  a  joke,  if  you  can  see  it," 
David  observed  coldly. 

"  Pardon  me,"  the  Rabbi  said,  "  I'm  not  laughing  at 
Zionism,  though  I  don't  believe  in  it.  But  you  are  surely 
an  amazing  man!  You  are  too  sophisticated  for  any 
Religion.  You  think  the  various  classes  of  Jews  can't  be 
kept  from  each  other's  throats,  even  in  a  well-governed, 
established,  old  community  like  Baltimore.  Yet  you  want 
to  pour  them  into  an  unsettled  land  of  dangers  like  Pales 
tine.  You  would  urge  these  bitter  enemies  to  join  forces 
in  the  building  of  a  new  state,  to  conserve  the  Judaism 
which  you  say  is  obsolete." 

"  Not  to  conserve  the  Religion ! "  David  replied 
promptly,  "the  race!  There's  something  distinctive, — 
something  worth  saving,  in  the  race.  It  has  lasted  all 

108 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

these  centuries  because  persecution  kept  us  sheltered  from 
outside  influences.  Then  came  freedom,  and  the  only  dif 
ference  between  Jews  who  have  lived  two  generations  in 
America  and  England,  and  the  Christians,  is  based  on  the 
blessed  fact  that  the  Christians  won't  accept  you  as  part 
and  parcel  of  themselves,  no  matter  how  hard  you  pretend 
to  be.  We  Zionists  want  to  have  a  land  where  the  race 
can  develop  its  own  possibilities,  before  all  the  Jews  get 
to  be  as  worthless  as  the  Congregation  Beth  El." 

The  long  discussion  had  at  least  taught  Philip  not  to 
blaze  up  at  David's  taunts.  He  was  secretly  glad  it  was 
his  turn  to  be  superior,  and  therefore,  he  could  afford  to 
be  good-humored. 

"  You  laugh  at  my  visions,"  he  said,  "  your's  seem  to 
be  a  thousand  times  less  practical.  While  you're  still  tell 
ing  me  I'm  a  young  fool,  for  daring  to  believe  people  can 
learn  common  kindness,  you  calmly  propose  that  these 
very  people  attempt  the  impossible.  And  for  no  sane  rea 
son  that  I  can  see.  America's  good  enough  for  me !  " 

"  The  difference  between  us  is  clear,"  David  replied. 
"  I  believe  men  can't  be  made  to  do  anything  which  is 
against  their  real  interest.  For  the  tribe  of  Kaufman  and 
his  wage  slaves  to  slobber  over  each  other  is  not  only 
puerile,  it's  a  direct  handicap  in  their  eternal  game  of 
cutting  throats.  But  Zionism  is  for  the  real  advantage 
of  every  Jew.  Men  can  do  the  impossible  if  they  are 
forced  to  choose  between  a  great  gain  on  the  one  side, 
and  Death  on  the  other.  The  Jew  can't  keep  alive  without 
Zionism,  and  no  race  wants  to  become  extinct." 

"  Of  course,"  Philip  interjected.  "  Anyone  can  argue, 
if  he  begins  by  assuming  the  very  thing  he  wants  to  prove. 
We  non-Zionists  are  American  in  all  our  hopes  for  our- 

109 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

selves  and  our  children.  We  don't  want  a  Jewish  country, 
any  more  than  we'd  expect  to  see  the  Baptists  or  the 
Presbyterians  go  off  and  establish  a  country  of  their  own. 
And  we  don't  think  we're  dying,  either." 

"  The  most  hopeless  consumptive  always  thinks  he's 
getting  better,"  David  replied.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  all 
the  Jews  except  the  Zionists  are  Christian  in  everything 
but  race.  You  will  talk  Religion  when  you  ought  to  be 
talking  Race.  Religion  won't  help  you.  The  only  differ 
ence  between  you  and  a  Unitarian  lies  in  the  fact  that  he 
can  join  the  Maryland  Club,  and  be  a  guest  at  a  good  sum 
mer  hotel,  and  you  can't.  That's  what  you  rely  on  to  save 
Judaism.  No,  sir !  "  he  concluded,  "  you  have  your  choice 
of  two  roads  and  only  two ;  complete  assimilation  of  the 
Jew  among  the  other  races  of  the  world, — and  Zionism." 

Philip  anticipated  with  keen  pleasure  a  contest  on 
terms  of  something  like  equality  with  this  older  man 
who  had  been  calmly  taunting  him,  all  evening,  with  his 
youth  and  inexperience. 

"  You  completely  ignore "  he  began,  loftily. 

David  interrupted  him: 

"  I  intend  to  keep  on  ignoring  it,  whatever  '  it '  happens 
to  be.  I've  passed  the  debating  society  stage.  I  can  tell 
when  a  man  isn't  to  be  convinced,  if  you  can't ;  I'll  help 
you  by  telling  you  that  your  eloquence,  applied  to  me,  is 
as  hopeless  as  mine  with  you.  Each  of  us  may  safely 
assume  the  other  to  know  the  stock  arguments,  and  as 
for  making  any  sort  of  an  impression,  unfortunately,  we 
lack  an  audience.  Why  squander  perfectly  good  words  ?" 

Philip,  still  good-humored,  though  not  completely  free 
from  a  trace  of  chagrin  at  the  conduct  of  this  uncere 
monious  and  arbitrary  host,  arose  to  go. 

no 


CONCERNING  JEWS 

"  I  didn't  mean  you  to  get  out,"  David  assured  him, 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  is  teaching  a  child  rather  than 
.apologizing,  "there  are  plenty  of  other  things  to  talk 
about." 

"  No,"  Philip  said ;  "  it's  late,  and  as  it  is,  I've  kept 
you  a  long  time  from  your  work.  It  was  kind  of  you  to 
see  me  at  all.  I'm  coming  again,  even  if  you  don't  want 
me." 

"  I  do  want  you,"  David  replied.  "I've  always  wished 
I  could  spend  the  last  night  with  one  of  the  Christian 
martyrs, — his  last,  I  mean — not  mine.  That's  the  way  I 
feel  about  you, — Christianity  and  all.  Come  soon,  before 
the  lion  gets  you." 

"  I  will,"  Philip  promised,  realizing  perfectly  that 
behind  David's  words  lay  a  subtle,  and  kindly-meant  repe 
tition  of  the  warnings  he  had  given  earlier  in  the  evening. 
"  But  don't  be  too  sure,"  he  added,  "  maybe  I  shall  eat 
the  lion." 

David  sighed  with  an  exaggerated  assumption  of 
despair. 

"  After  all  the  natural  history  I've  tried  to  teach  you ! 
Well,  well,  a  man  should  never  be  betrayed  into  an  argu 
ment  except  in  Court — where  he  gets  paid  for  being 
misunderstood." 


CHAPTER  X 
A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

INTELLIGENT  debate  upon  abstract  topics  is  not  with 
out  some  definite  value,  in  spite  of  what  David  Gordon's 
views  on  the  subject  may  have  been.  Though  we  invari 
ably  find  it  impossible  to  convert  our  opponents,  the  inge 
nuity  and  logical  force  of  our  own  arguments  rarely  fail 
to  produce  the  most  profound  impressions  upon  ourselves. 
A  little  well-distributed  opposition  can  do  more  to  make 
us  sure  of  our  positions  than  unlimited  acquiescence. 

This  is  what  happened  in  Philip's  case.  He  had  gone 
to  David  in  quest  of  advice.  He  came  from  the  evening's 
interview  doggedly  determined  to  prove,  both  by  word 
and  deed,  the  error  of  the  lawyer's  opinions. 

The  first  fruits  of  this  resolve  took  the  form  of  a 
series  of  scholarly  sermons  upon  the  Origin  and  Pur 
poses  of  Reformed  Judaism — the  necessity  for  its  advent, 
what  it  had  already  accomplished,  and  what  its  mission 
was  to  be  in  the  future.  These  sermons,  preached  at 
Beth  El  to  an  admiring  congregation,  were  promptly  pub 
lished  in  a  Jewish  weekly  which  enjoyed  a  national  cir 
culation.  They  created  some  little  stir  throughout  the 
country,  being  cordially  applauded  as  the  most  coherent 
and  persuasive  statement  which  had  yet  appeared  of  the 
advanced  reform  position.  Philip  had  hoped  he  might 
become  involved  in  a  literary  controversy,  with  ample 
opportunities  for  demonstrating  how  well-prepared  he 
was  to  sustain  the  theories  he  had  chosen  to  defend.  But 
unfortunately,  the  orthodox  never  read  the  magazine  in 

112 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

which  he  had  printed  his  articles,  any  more  than  Philip 
himself  took  the  trouble  to  examine  their  journals.  He 
was  therefore  forced  to  content  himself  with  observing 
his  own  Board  of  Directors'  ill-concealed  fear  lest  his 
new-found  fame  might  cause  congregations  in  New  York 
and  Philadelphia  to  envy  Baltimore  the  possession  of  its 
brilliant  young  Rabbi,  and  to  make  efforts  to  lure  him 
hence. 

Philip  promptly  sent  copies  of  these  sermons  to  David 
Gordon.  Each  one  had  been  aimed  directly  at  the  skepti 
cal  lawyer.  They  must  surely  succeed  in  making  some 
impression  upon  him !  The  only  response  elicited,  how 
ever,  was  a  note  typed  on  David's  office  stationery,  which 
read: 

DEAR  DR.  GRAETZ  : 

I  hope  you  won't  think  my  praise  fulsome,  when  I  tell  you 
I  consider  your  sermons  no  worse  than  most  of  my  briefs.  It 
puzzles  me  a  little  to  understand  how  a  mind  sufficiently  keen  to 
evolve  your  arguments  can  be  guileless  enough  to  join  with  your 
audience  in  accepting  them  as  valid.  My  own  position  is  less 
cruel.  If  I  can  delude  a  court  into  agreement  with  me,  I  need 
not  worry  about  my  own  beliefs. 

Send  me  some  more  sermons  of  the  same  type.  I  shall  wel 
come  them  as  evidence  that  you  are  busily  engaged  in  keeping 
out  of  mischief. 

Yours  sincerely, 

DAVID  GORDON. 

When  Philip  first  read  this  note,  he  did  not  realize 
how  much  truth  was  hidden  in  its  last  sentence.  The 
preparation  of  these  sermons  had  consumed  much  time. 
As  a  necessary  consequence,  he  had  been  forced  to  defer 
his  projected  tours  of  exploration  into  East  Baltimore. 

8  113 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

It  was  now  February  and  he  sometimes  reproached  him 
self  with  the  random  recollection  that  he  was  no  less 
ignorant  of  East-side  conditions  than  on  the  day  he  had 
first  entered  the  city.  But  he  was  busy, — feverishly  busy 
— with  a  thousand  details  of  his  congregational  and  social 
activities,  and,  after  all,  there  was  no  special  haste.  His 
delay  indicated,  he  was  sure,  no  weakening  of  his  purpose. 

In  this  way  it  came  to  pass  that  Destiny  made  Philip 
the  victim  of  a  rather  malicious  bit  of  irony.  While  he 
sat  in  his  study  calmly  setting  forth,  upon  neat  sheets  of 
paper,  the  aggressive  duties  enjoined  upon  him  by  his 
religion,  in  case  certain  calamities  should  ever  occur,  the 
events  he  dreamed  of  were  actually  being  enacted,  almost 
within  sight  of  his  window,  and  he  was  too  much  en 
grossed  in  his  work,  either  to  hear  or  see. 

Since  the  beginning  of  history,  man  has  been  engaged 
in  an  unsuccessful  effort  to  give  to  actual  life,  at  least 
a  trace  of  the  color  and  intensity  so  prodigally  splattered 
over  the  crudest  works  of  friction.  The  worst  of  it  is  we 
can  never  rid  ourselves  of  the  idea  that  the  drama  is  really 
there  if  we  could  only  rearrange  the  details,  and  the 
sequence  of  events. 

Philip  knew  precisely  how  a  strike  should  burst  upon 
an  industrial  community.  There  had  been  no  factories  in 
the  village  where  his  early  youth  had  been  spent,  and 
later  he  had  been  too  much  occupied  with  books  and 
teachers  to  know  whether  or  not  there  were  labor  troubles 
in  his  collge  town ;  but  he  was  perfectly  aware  how  such 
things  ought,  in  all  artistry,  to  be  staged.  There  should 
be  first  a  low  rumble  of  unrest  among  the  workers — a 
fiery  letter  or  two  printed  in  the  daily  press,  complaining 
of  intolerable  grievances,  and  an  adroit  but  unyielding 

114 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

reply  by  the  employers,  setting  forth  their  side.  Then 
there  should  appear  frantic  appeals  by  disinterested  citi 
zens  to  both  factions  not  to  embroil  a  quiet  city  in  the 
horrors  of  conflict.  This  would  be  the  psychological  mo 
ment  for  the  entrance  upon  the  scene  of  an  inspired  young 
prophet  of  the  religion  of  Brotherhood,  whose  part  in  the 
drama  would  be  to  bring  to  these  enraged  men  a  peace 
based  on  exact  justice  and  human  fellowship.  In  un 
fortunate  communities  where  no  such  mediator  was  at 
hand,  this  prelude  must,  in  due  course,  be  followed  by  the 
bursting  storm.  The  factories  would  be  idle,  hunger 
would  promptly  breed  violence,  riot  would  stalk  through 
the  city,  the  wealthy  would  be  haunted  by  all  too  plausible 
fears  for  their  safety,  while  the  whole  civic  life  would 
be  menaced  by  the  fury  of  the  contending  camps.  Finally, 
there  would  come  the  militia,  or  at  least  a  small  regiment 
of  special  constables, — who  would  crush  out  all  disorder 
with  a  ruthless  disregard  of  the  real  merits  of  the  conflict. 

To  one  who  knew  so  well  each  and  every  one  of  the 
elements  of  suspense  and  climax  necessary  to  the  proper 
development  of  such  a  tragedy,  it  was  more  than  discon 
certing  to  discover  that,  in  defiance  of  all  the  proprieties — 
with  never  a  signal  to  herald  its  advent  or  progress  to 
Philip — a  strike  had  actually  been  in  force  in  the  factories 
of  the  Pioneer  Clothing  Company  for  a  period  of  over 
four  weeks.  It  was  bad  enough  for  any  such  occurrence 
to  steal  into  a  community  without  detection  by  the  spirit 
ual  sentinel,  but  the  guiding  spirit  of  the  Pioneer  Com 
pany  was  Mr.  Clarence  Kaufman,  the  president  of 
Beth  El ! 

Nor  did  it  come  to  the  Rabbi's  knowledge,  even  at 
this  late  day,  because  of  any  special  vigilance  on  his  part, 

115 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

or  because  of  any  visible  disturbance  of  the  City's  normal 
life,  but  through  the  sheerest  accident. 

Philip's  salary  was  liberal  and  his  expenses  modest. 
Even  had  he  possessed  no  income  save  his  earnings, 
there  would  still  have  been  a  fair  surplus  to  his  credit. 
As  it  was,  he  was  surprised — for  his  interest  in  such 
matters  was  slight — to  find,  one  day,  after  repeated  in 
sistence  from  his  bank  had  forced  him  to  have  his  pass 
book  balanced,  that  his  savings  now  amounted  to  nearly 
two  thousand  dollars.  He  knew  just  enough  about  money, 
and  its  care,  to  realize  the  advisability  of  investing  this 
sum,  and  anxious  to  have  no  further  concern  about  the 
matter,  went  directly  from  the  bank  to  the  brokerage 
office  of  Arthur  Kahn,  determined  to  ask  him  to  pur 
chase  on  his  behalf  whatever  security  he  might  think 
judicious. 

Arthur  received  him  with  his  wonted  air  of  polite 
condescension.  It  was  impossible  not  to  observe  what  a 
busy  and  important  man  he  was,  and  how  much  of  the 
City's  financial  stability  was  dependent  on  him.  Still  he 
was  more  than  happy  to  be  of  service  to  a  scholar  like  the 
Rabbi,  whose  infinitesimal  business  interests  were  more 
than  counterbalanced  by  his  value  as  a  spiritual  and  social 
factor.  The  choice  of  an  investment  was  quickly  made, 
Philip  being  totally  innocent  of  any  knowledge  on  the 
subject,  and  admitting  the  fact  blithely.  He  allowed 
Arthur  to  direct  him  unquestioningly,  and  the  broker 
promptly  arranged  to  purchase  for  him  such  an  ultra- 
conservative  security  as  he  would  have  recommended  to 
an  unsophisticated  widow  whom  he  had  determined  to 
protect  from  unscrupulous  promoters  of  oreless  gold 
mines.  Philip,  after  expressing  his  thanks,  was  duly 

116 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

bowed  out  of  Arthur's  private  office,  and  was  about  to 
wipe  the  whole  transaction  from  his  memory — at  least, 
for  the  present — when  he  paused  in  the  general  lounging- 
room  of  the  brokerage  office  to  bestow  a  passing  glance 
upon  a  scene,  which,  to  his  unaccustomed  eyes,  was  novel 
and  somewhat  interesting. 

One  side  of  the  room  was  occupied  by  a  long  black 
board.  On  this  there  was  painted,  in  white,  mystic 
combinations  of  letters  of  the  alphabet.  Philip  did  not 
know  their  individual  significance,  but  correctly  sup 
posed  them  to  be  abbreviations  for  the  names  of  various 
corporate  stocks.  A  boy  stood  before  this  blackboard 
with  a  bit  of  chalk  in  his  hand  neatly  tracing,  under  each 
symbol,  various  figures.  At  one  side  of  the  room,  a  tele 
graph  instrument,  reposing  under  a  glass  top,  steadily 
disgorged  a  long  strip  of  paper  tape,  and  a  clerk  bent 
over  it  calling  out  numbers  to  the  boy  at  the  blackboard. 
These  activities  appeared  to  create  an  unusual  degree  of 
interest  in  a  half  score  of  men  who  sat  in  deep,  com 
fortable  leather  chairs,  puffing  vigorously  at  cigars  and 
intently  watching  the  chalk  marks.  The  Rabbi  recog 
nized  several  of  these  men,  and  bowed  to  them  genially. 
He  reflected  how  bored  he  would  be  if  it  were  his  duty 
to  spend  his  days  guessing  what  numbers  would  appear 
on  that  wall — even  if  he  were  well  paid  for  doing  it.  The 
men  to  whom  he  had  nodded  assumed,  for  their  part,  that 
he  had  called  on  Arthur  Kahn  for  the  purpose  of  securing 
funds  from  him  for  some  pet  charity,  and  secretly  pitied 
him  for  having  to  spend  his  time  at  such  an  unpalatable 
task. 

While  Philip  stood  there,  deciding  he  really  must  go, 
in  another  minute,  one  of  the  most  intent  of  the  critics 

117 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  the  blackboard,  remarked  to  his  neighbor,  as  though 
resuming  an  interrupted  conversation: 

"If  you  want  a  good  local  industrial,  why  not  buy 
'  Pioneer  Clothing '  ?  " 

"  Don't  like  it,"  was  the  prompt  response.  "  I  hate 
'  one-man '  companies." 

"  It's  always  paid  its  dividends  regularly,"  the  first 
speaker  insisted.  "  All  our  local  companies  are  '  one- 
man  '  companies,  only  you  don't  usually  know  it.  '  Pio 
neer  '  is  selling  low  just  now  because  of  the  strike.  It's 
due  for  a  rise." 

"  If  it  wins  this  strike,"  his  companion  added, 
significantly. 

"  Oh,  I'll  gamble  on  Kaufman,"  the  first  man  pro 
claimed  confidently,  "  he  always  wins  his  strikes." 

Philip  did  not  wait  to  hear  more.  He  was  profoundly 
troubled.  He  had  what  he  knew  to  be  an  absurd  feeling 
of  being  unfairly  treated — of  having  been  taken  un 
awares.  Even  now,  when  he  had  learned  of  the  existence 
of  a  strike  in  the  factories  of  his  own  parishioner,  he 
had  no  idea  of  its  cause  or  merits,  nor  how  he  ought  to 
set  about  obtaining  the  desired  information.  He  had  a 
luncheon  engagement  with  a  small  group  of  young  men, 
and  he  was,  therefore,  unable  to  give  any  concentrated 
thought  to  the  matter,  but  throughout  the  meal-hour  he 
was  preoccupied,  silent  and  uninteresting — a  surprising 
contrast  to  his  usual  self.  When  he  succeeded  in  tearing 
himself  away  from  his  companions  he  deliberately  set 
about  getting  light  upon  the  situation  in  the  Pioneer  fac 
tory.  His  first  steps  were  unavailing.  It  did  not  seem 
politic  to  him  to  ask  Mr.  Kaufman  for  the  desired  in 
formation.  Any  subsequent  investigation  of  the  accuracy 

118 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

of  his  statements  might  prove  embarrassing.  Several 
other  possible  sources  of  knowledge  he  rejected  because 
he  could  not  rid  himself  of  a  definite  sense  of  humiliation 
at  being  compelled  at  this  late  day  in  the  strike's  progress 
to  go  from  door  to  door  begging  odds  and  ends  of  data 
upon  a  subject  regarding  which  he  felt  he  should  have 
been  fully  advised.  It  was  for  this  reason  he  stead 
fastly  refused  to  appeal  for  guidance  to  David  Gordon, 
who  would,  he  reflected  with  chagrin,  have,  at  his  finger 
tips,  all  the  details  of  the  controversy. 

After  a  number  of  fruitless  demands  at  public  libra 
ries,  at  police  headquarters,  and  elsewhere,  the  obliging 
young  lady  in  charge  of  the  inquiry  department  of  one  of 
the  newspapers  suggested  to  the  Rabbi  a  visit  to  the  State 
Bureau  of  Industrial  Statistics.  It  was  the  duty  of  this 
office,  she  informed  him,  to  collect  and  classify  all  facts 
and  conflicting  claims  pertaining  to  strikes,  lock-outs, 
and  boycotts,  and  to  place  them  at  the  disposal  of  any 
person  with  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind.  Philip  thanked 
the  girl  with  fervor,  wondered  why  this  idea  had  never 
occurred  to  him,  and  hurried  off  to  put  her  plan  into 
practice;  but  when  he  reached  the  office  he  was  con 
fronted  with  a  neat  sign  explaining  how  many  less  hours, 
a  day,  of  labor  a  paternal  State  demands  of  its  employees 
than  is  required  by  any  other  business  enterprise.  The 
Bureau  would  not  be  open  until  next  morning,  and 
Philip  was  forced  to  postpone  his  investigation  until 
then. 

He  was  in  no  mood  to  spend  the  evening  with  Ruth, 
as  they  had  planned,  but  he  could  think  of  no  adequate 
explanation  for  absenting  himself,  so  he  found  himself 
at  her  home  a  little  later  than  his  usual  hour  of  arrival. 

119 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

His  delay  had  caused  Ruth  some  slight  impatience, 
which  she  suppressed  artfully  when  she  noticed  the  de 
jection  and  preoccupation  of  her  visitor.  Philip  was  one 
of  those  transparent  natures  who  are  ill-equipped  to  con 
ceal  their  emotions.  If  he  were  happy  or  miserable, 
enthusiastic  or  depressed,  he  promptly  displayed  signals 
of  his  state,  in  his  words  or  manner. 

"  What's  the  matter  ? "  Ruth  demanded  with  flatter 
ing  solicitude,  as  soon  as  they  had  exchanged  greetings. 

He  answered  her  question  with  another ! 

"  Did  you  know  there  was  a  strike  at  the  Pioneer 
plant?" 

Ruth  was  not  normally  one  of  those  inflexible  wor 
shippers  of  literal  Truth,  whose  nobility  is  so  commend 
able  and  uncomfortable.  She  knew,  too,  how  much 
better  would  be  the  effect  on  Philip's  perturbed  spirit  if 
she  were  to  assert  a  total  ignorance  of  all  recent  happen 
ings  in  the  business  career  of  her  inconvenient  Uncle. 
But  she  was  in  the  throes  of  a  new  emotional  experience. 
Her  fondness  for  Philip  was  tangled  in  her  thoughts  with 
hosts  of  rosy-colored  beliefs  about  his  delicacy  of  moral 
perception,  and  her  own  ardent  desire  to  adapt  herself 
to  his  standards.  She  could  not  bring  herself,  therefore, 
to  lie  to  him,  although  she  would  have  cheerfully  done 
so  to  anyone  else. 

"  I  did  know  of  it,"  she  admitted,  almost  apologeti 
cally. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  unjust  that  one  who  craves  the 
fine  moral  glow  which  follows  a  virtuous  deed  should  be 
willing  to  pay  for  it  with  some  corresponding  loss  of  com 
fort.  Unfortunately,  the  moralists  have  falsely  taught 
us  to  expect  a  reward  instead.  When  the  reward  bears 

120 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

all  the  outward  semblance  of  a  punishment,  we  feel 
cruelly  defrauded.  The  first  instalment  of  Ruth's  price 
for  her  devotion  to  the  truth  was  promptly  demanded. 
The  balance  she  was  to  pay  long  after,  without  knowing 
just  how,  and  when.  For  her  silent  and  concealed  knowl 
edge  of  the  existence  of  the  strike,  ranged  her  in  the 
Rabbi's  thoughts — although  he  hardly  realized  it  him 
self, — among  the  partisans  of  Clarence  Kaufman. 

"  You  should  have  told  me,  Ruth.  I  ought  to  have 
known,"  Philip  said  with  grave  reproach  in  his  voice. 

Ruth  was  distressed.  Never  before  had  he  seemed  so 
definitely  displeased  with  her.  Yet  her  conduct  through 
out  had  been  directed  by  a  pure,  disinterested  care  for 
his  welfare  and  happiness.  The  Ruth  of  a  year  before 
would  have  been  astounded  could  she  have  seen  the  Ruth 
of  today,  grown  almost  unselfish.  Still  more  would  she 
have  been  startled  at  the  meekness  with  which  she  sub 
mitted  to  this  undeserved  reproof. 

"  I  hoped  it  would  straighten  itself  out,"  she  explained 
eagerly,  her  pretty  face  filled  with  an  earnest  appeal  that 
he  should  smile  upon  her  again.  "  There's  some  trouble 
at  the  Pioneer  works  nearly  all  the  time.  It  usually 
clears  up  by  itself.  I  hoped  it  would  this  time.  Maybe  it 
still  will.  I  thought  there  was  no  use  in  worrying  you, 
unless  things  grew  really  serious.  Are  you  angry  with 
me  ?  "  she  asked,  finding  he  showed  no  signs  of  returning 
serenity. 

"  No,"  he  replied  soberly,  "  not  angry, — of  course  not, 
Ruth.  But  I  wish  you  had  told  me.  I  ought  to  have 
been  at  work,  trying  to  see  if  I  could  help.  Do  you  know 
what  this  strike's  about  ?  "  he  demanded  peremptorily. 

"  No,"  she  said  simply,  then  adding  quickly  in  the 
121 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

hope  of  being  restored  to  favor  if  she  proved  her  value. 
"  I  can  find  out  all  about  it  if  you  want  to  know;  I'll  ask 
Uncle  Clarence,  or  Arthur." 

He  shook  his  head  forbiddingly. 

"  I  shall  have  official  information  tomorrow,"  he  said, 
slamming  this  door  of  hope  in  her  face.  But  he  went  on, 
unconsciously  venting  on  Ruth  all  the  vexation  he  felt 
at  his  own  lack  of  alertness.  "  Don't  you  think  you  ought 
to  have  been  interested  in  finding  out  why  the  men 
were  fighting  ?  " 

Ruth's  mood  of  unwonted  patient  submission  still 
held  its  sway. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  pleaded  by  way  of  justifying  her 
self,  "  if  this  strike  had  been  an  isolated  happening,  I'd 
have  been  curious  to  find  out  all  about  it.  But,  you  see, 
there's  always  some  sort  of  quarrel  going  on  in  the  fac 
tory  ;  mostly  about  trifles,  too.  If  I  tried  to  keep  in  touch 
with  all  their  squabbles  I  wouldn't  have  time  for  anything 
else." 

"  But  you're  interested  in  the  company  financially," 
he  insisted  uncompromisingly,  "  you're  a  stockholder.  It's 
your  business  to  know  how  the  men  who  work  for  you 
are  treated ! " 

Ruth's  new-found  attitude  of  patience  was  not  suf 
ficiently  matured  to  endure  such  undiluted  rebuke  without 
some  noticeable  strain.  For  a  minute  she  forgot  her  posi 
tion  as  a  lowly  disciple,  and  turned  sharply  on  her  stern 
monitor. 

"  You  have  some  investments  of  your  own,  I  suppose," 
she  said.  "  Do  you  know  the  policy  of  each  company 
toward  its  men  ?  " 

Philip  was  silenced ;  he  remembered  the  bond  Arthur 
122 


Kahn  had  purchased  for  him  only  that  morning,  and 
was  forced  to  admit  to  himself  how  completely  he  had 
ignored  this  phase  of  the  situation,  not  only  in  this  specific 
instance,  but  applied  to  all  the  sources  of  his  small  income. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  not  greatly  delighted  to  find 
how  easily  Ruth  had  succeeded  in  putting  him  in  the 
wrong,  while  she  proceeded  to  push  her  advantage  fur 
ther  by  adding,  when  he  failed  to  reply : 

"Of  course  you  don't !  And  I  have  more  excuse  than 
you!  Even  if  I  disapproved  of  what  was  being  done,  I 
couldn't  take  any  action.  My  money  is  all  held  in  trust 
for  me.  I  only  get  the  income  till  I'm  thirty.  My  hands 
are  tied.  Don't  you  see  it  isn't  my  business  ?  " 

By  this  time,  Ruth's  temporary  irritation  had  ex 
hausted  itself,  and  she  was,  once  more,  anxious  to  pour 
balm  upon  the  wounds  she  had  helped  to  inflict. 

"  Of  course,"  she  went  on,  "  I've  learned  from  you 
that  we  all  ought  to  give  thought  to  such  questions.  What 
I  meant  was,  I'm  no  more  to  blame  than  everyone  else 
for  not  having  done  it  before." 

"  No,"  Philip  admitted  honestly,  though  without  en 
thusiasm,  "  you  are  right.  I've  no  right  to  throw  stones. 
I've  got  to  admit  I've  been  pretty  remiss.  Still,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  a  more  inviting  side  of  the  problem, 
"  the  main  question  is  not  what  we  ought  to  have  done, 
but  what  we're  going  to  do  now.  That's  why  I  wish  you'd 
told  me  about  this  strike  earlier.  I've  been  losing  time 
while  it  gained  headway." 

She  perceived  she  had  gained  nothing  by  her  success 
ful  attack.  He  still  blamed  her.  She  attempted  another 
and  more  feminine  mode  of  conciliation. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said  simply,  "  I  was  trying  to  spare 

123 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

you.  I  thought  if  you  could  be  led  to  ignore  the  little 
quarrels,  you'd  have  all  the  more  influence  when  the  really 
serious  troubles  began." 

This  was  decidedly  better.  Philip  was  unable  to  re 
main  completely  oblivious  to  her  evident  contrition  and 
desire  to  be  useful.  She  then  skilfully  led  him  to  ex 
plain  his  plans  for  gaining  a  complete  knowledge  of  the 
questions  at  issue  between  Mr.  Kaufman  and  his  em 
ployees,  and  his  intentions,  when  he  should  discover  a 
just  solution  of  their  difficulties,  to  demand  its  acceptance 
by  both  sides. 

Try  as  she  would,  she  could  not  blind  herself  to  the 
certainty  of  much  discouragement  and  unhappiness  in 
store  for  Philip  when  he  should  thrust  his  boyish,  but 
lovable,  idealism  between  these  grimy,  infuriated  fighting 
men. 

In  spite  of  the  resolution  she  had  formed  to  follow 
the  path  he  was  destined  to  tread, — no  matter  through 
what  perils  it  might  lead, — she  was  possessed  by  a  woman 
like  desire, — now  that  the  approach  of  danger  was  immi 
nent — to  defer,  if  only  for  a  brief  interval,  the  actual 
encounter  between  his  cherished  theories  and  the  crude 
realities. 

It  was  for  him  she  feared,  much  more  than  for  her 
self.  Even  at  the  risk  of  intensifying  his  exasperation, 
she  felt  she  must  attempt  to  divert  him  from  his  rash 
adventure. 

"  But  you  said,  Philip,"  she  urged,  "  you  would  not 
interfere  in  such  matters  unless  you  found  a  clean-cut 
issue  of  right  and  wrong.  You  still  believe  that,  don't 
you?  You're  not  going  to  try  to  dictate  mere  matters 
of  policy  ?  " 

124 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  I  still  believe  that.  But,"  he 
added  with  aggressive  determination,  "  I'm  reasonably 
sure  if  there's  constant  friction,  as  you  say  there  is,  it 
can't  be  due  to  a  mere  question  of  policy." 

Ruth,  before  replying,  looked  thoughtfully  into  the 
wood  fire  blazing  on  the  hearth.  It  occurred  to  her  that 
this  youth,  with  the  ardent  temperament,  could  find  a 
question  of  right  and  wrong  in  a  multitude  of  matters 
where  she  could  see  nothing  but  problems  of  expediency. 
She  experienced  a  quickly-suppressed  spasm  of  heresy, 
while  she  wondered  how  a  world,  keyed  to  so  intense  a 
pitch,  could  possibly  endure.  She  brought  herself  back 
to  a  consideration  of  Philip's  idea.  She  knew  more 
about  the  Pioneer  Company  and  its  policies  than  he  had 
supposed.  Ruth  always  was  surprising  Philip  by  be 
traying  a  definite  knowledge  he  had  not  believed  her  to 
possess,  yet  he  had  never  learned  to  anticipate  anything 
from  her  but  pretty  helplessness. 

"  I  can  tell  you  right  here  and  now,"  she  informed 
him,  "  the  main  cause  of  the  friction.  It's  because  the 
Pioneer  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Unions.  Some 
of  the  Baltimore  factories  employ  both  Union  and  non- 
Union  labor.  In  others,  the  Unions  have  practically 
forced  out  non-Union  men.  Uncle  Clarence  is  the  only 
manager  who  has  succeeded,  so  far,  in  refusing  to  deal 
with  Unions  altogether.  That's  what  they  fight  about, 
with  a  thousand  variations,  of  course.  I  can  see  how  a 
man  might  argue  either  side,  but  I  don't  see  how  you 
could  ever  convince  Uncle  Clarence,  or  the  men,  that  they 
were  morally  wrong." 

Philip  was  somewhat  baffled  at  this  statement  of  the 
situation.  He  had  supposed  he  would  be  confronted  by  a 

125 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

more  appealing  demand  for  a  higher  wage,  or  better 
working  conditions.  Ruth  began  to  feel  she  had  chanced 
upon  the  fortunate  charm  by  which  she  could,  at  the  same 
time,  keep  him  inactive  without  crushing  either  his  faith 
in  himself  or  his  fondness  for  her. 

"  You  see,"  she  went  on,  bringing  her  alert  intelli 
gence  to  bear  on  her  task,  "  why  I  was,  and  am,  so  anx 
ious  to  prevent  you  from  committing  yourself  too  hastily. 
I  don't  want  to  try  to  influence  your  final  judgment.  I 
know  I  couldn't,  even,  if  I  tried,  but  I  really  don't  want  to. 
You  wouldn't  be  yourself  if  you  didn't  have  your  wonder 
ful  sense  of  duty.  I  don't  want  you  to  waste  yourself. 
The  question  of  Unions  isn't  one  where  all  good  men 
take  the  same  side.  At  college  we  had  one  teacher  of 
Economics  who  saw  nothing  good  about  them  and  one 
who  saw  nothing  bad.  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  to 
believe.  But  this  I  do  know:  If  you  take  sides  for,  or 
against  the  Union,  just  because  you  happen  to  think  that 
way,  you'll  never  be  able  to  make  men  like  Clarence 
Kaufman,  or  the  labor  leaders,  credit  you  with  any  desire 
to  be  fair  to  both  parties." 

Philip  found  no  escape  from  the  conclusion  of  Ruth's 
logic — yet  he  was  definitely  dissatisfied.  She  was  right; 
he  admitted  it;  still,  he  was  disgusted  to  find  himself 
here,  and  everywhere,  condemned  to  an  inglorious  inac 
tion — to  an  appearance  of  prudent  timidity,  all  the  more 
exasperating  because  he  knew  himself  to  be  restrained 
by  no  cowardly  fears  for  his  own  welfare.  There  were 
always  perfectly  valid  reasons  for  remaining  comfortable 
and  conventional !  And  now  Ruth  had  allied  herself  with 
the  irresistible  forces  which  shackled  him.  She  was  good, 
of  course,  and  only  striving  to  serve  what  she  considered 

126 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

his  needs.  In  this  case,  she  was  painfully  wise,  too.  None 
the  less,  she  appeared  to  him  at  that  minute  as  a  Delilah, 
without  Delilah's  guilt,  making  with  all  her  fascinations, 
common  cause  with  those  who  planned  to  bind  him,  hand 
and  foot,  dim  his  vision,  and  prostitute  his  strength  to 
the  menial  labor  of  the  millstone. 

At  this  uncomfortable  juncture,  Ruth  found  an  un 
expected  ally  in  the  person  of  Robert  Frank.  He  had  just 
entered  the  house  and  had  paused  at  the  door  of  the 
living-room  for  a  smile  and  a  nod  before  going  upstairs 
to  Elizabeth,  when  Ruth  gracefully  arranged  a  soft 
cushion  and  a  comfortable  chair  for  him  and  daintily 
tempted  him  to  sit  with  them  for  a  while. 

The  surgeon  was  a  reasonably  observant  man — when 
ever  he  found  opportunity  to  bend  his  attention  upon 
anything  other  than  his  work.  Ruth  had  never  before 
exhibited  any  marked  inclination  toward  sharing  Philip's 
company  with  other  members  of  her  family,  and  the  pair 
seemed  to  his  eye  more  solemn  than  the  most  impersonal 
lovers  ought  ever  to  be.  He  knew  she  must  be  in  need 
of  some  sort  of  moral  support,  and  all  his  principles  of 
non-interference  urged  him  to  go  straight  upstairs  to  his 
wife,  and  leave  Ruth  to  grapple  with  her  own  problem. 
Nevertheless,  the  appeal  for  aid  of  a  pretty  girl,  even  if 
she  happens  to  be  a  sister-in-law,  has,  somehow,  more 
potency  than  any  mere  principle.  Robert  stretched  him 
self  lazily  in  the  chair  and  awaited  developments. 

"  Anything  wrong?  "  he  asked  with  a  cheerful  lack  of 
finesse,  which  would  have  made  his  wife  shudder  could 
she  have  heard  him. 

"  Yes,"  the  girl  replied,  deciding  she  could  never  in 
troduce  the  subject  indirectly  with  only  Robert  to 

127 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

help.      "  Philip  is  troubled  about  the  Pioneer  strike." 

"  The  Pioneer  strike ! "  the  surgeon  repeated,  "  I  do 
remember  hearing  something  about  it — but  anyone  who 
starts  to  worry  about  your  Uncle  Clarence  and  his  strikes 
is  as  unfortunate  as  a  woman  who's  annoyed  about  the 
color  of  her  hair.  It's  a  life  job." 

"  Oh,  no,  Rob,"  Ruth  answered  saucily,  "  a  woman's 
hair  sometimes  yields  to  persuasion."  She  was  not  sorry 
to  relieve,  if  she  could,  the  tension  of  their  somber  con 
versation.  Besides,  her  own  splendid  hair  would  seem 
none  the  worse  for  a  few  thoughts  devoted  to  the  subject. 

"  The  hair  may  change  somewhat,"  Robert  retorted 
easily,  "  but  the  worry  remains !  So  do  Clarence's  little 
tilts  with  the  labor  question.  What's  wrong  this  time — 
do  either  of  you  know  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Philip,  "  we  don't,  and  we  think  we  should 
have  known  long  ago." 

Robert  began  to  understand  why  Ruth  had  arranged  a 
cushion  for  him. 

"  I  suppose  a  good  citizen  would  have  known  all  about 
it,"  he  admitted  with  a  genial  good-tempered  raillery, 
"  but  there  is  no  such  animal.  If  one  doesn't  look  these 
things  up,  he  is  a  bad  citizen,  and  if  he  isn't  too  busy  to 
look  them  up,  he's  a  parasite.  So  there  you  are.  Anyhow, 
I  plead  guilty.  Tell  me  what  little  you  do  know." 

"  We  don't  know  anything,"  Philip  began,  disgustedly. 

"  But  we  suppose  it's  just  the  old  question  of  the 
Union,"  Ruth  interrupted. 

"  It  can't  be  acute,"  Robert  decided.  "  The  dispensary 
records  haven't  begun  to  show  any  unusual  increase  in 
broken  heads  and  black  eyes." 

Philip's  own  eyes  grew  wide  with  a  horrified  interest. 
128 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

"  Do  they  have  battles  with  the  police?  "  he  inquired 
eagerly. 

"  No,  with  one  another,"  the  surgeon  informed  him, 
nonchalantly,  "  strikers  and  scabs.  Not  battles,  either. 
Plain  ordinary  street  brawls — nothing  spectacular.  The 
common  or  garden  variety  of  drunken  husband  or  wife 
does  much  more  damage." 

Philip  was  not  inclined  to  accept  this  matter-of-fact 
view  of  such  occurrences. 

"  I  haven't  seen  anything  about  such  affairs  in  the 
newspapers,"  he  insisted,  "  I  haven't  seen  one  word  about 
the  strike  printed." 

"  I  suppose  it's  been  there,"  the  surgeon  observed, 
"  but  not  stressed  too  heavily.  You  see  that's  the  Balti 
more  attitude.  No  suppression  of  the  Truth,  of  course, 
but  gentility,  calmness,  no  hysteria!  If  you  listen  to  our 
newspapers  and  public  men,  we  have  no  slums,  no  poverty 
to  speak  of,  and  no  labor  disturbances  except  among  a 
few  disorderly  foreigners.  Even  our  thunder  storms 
have  better  manners  than  those  in  Boston  or  New  York !  " 

"  But  if  there  really  is  actual  violence,"  Philip  per 
sisted,  "  people  ought  to  be  made  to  take  notice — whether 
the  newspapers  think  so  or  not !  " 

Robert  smiled  pleasantly  at  the  younger  man,  whose 
generous  emotionalism  appealed  to  him.  He  meant  to  be 
particularly  careful  not  to  say  anything  which  might  dull 
the  edge  of  Philip's  unsophisticated  eagerness.  Yet  he 
must  not  allow  the  minister  to  make  himself  ridiculous, 
either.  This  was,  probably,  why  Ruth  had  called  for  his 
help. 

"  You  see,  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  said,  "  one  can't  allow  his 
sense  of  proportion  to  be  swamped — can  he?  All  this 

129 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

isn't  '  violence,'  if  you  use  the  word  as  we've  been  using 
it.  It  really  isn't  even  disorder.  Both  Ruth  and  I  drive 
about  town  as  we  always  did — nobody  hurts  us.  The 
men  who  want  to  work  and  those  who  don't,  merely 
exchange  bodily  compliments,  now  and  then.  After  all, 
it's  human  nature,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Philip  pondered  the  question  as  though  it  had  really 
been  intended  to  evoke  an  answer.  Then  he  replied  with 
decision : 

"  No,  Dr.  Frank,  I  don't  believe  it  is.  These  men, 
strikers  and  scabs,  really  belong  on  the  same  side.  They're 
'  Labor '  as  opposed  to  '  Capital.'  There  must  be  some 
thing  artificial  which  sets  them  to  attacking  one  another." 

The  surgeon,  who  had  been  busy  with  his  own  sur 
mises,  bent  a  sharp  glance  on  the  earnest,  likeable  boy. 
After  all,  he  concluded  his  mentality  was  anything  but 
negligible. 

"  Well,"  he  conceded,  "  maybe  you're  right.  Perhaps 
it  isn't  natural,  but  it's  usual.  Nothing  happens  so  regu 
larly  as  the  unnatural,"  he  went  on,  smiling  again.  "  The 
practical  fact  is  that  when  you  have  a  flat  question  like 
Unionism,  men  will  differ,  whether  they  line  up  according 
to  their  true  interests  or  not;  and  when  they  differ  they 
will  fight." 

"  But  we  who  believe  there  is  something  better  for 
men  than  fighting  and  hating,  oughtn't  we  do  something  ?" 
Philip  demanded.  His  voice  gave  his  question  the  char 
acter  of  an  indictment. 

"  I  do  what  I  can,"  the  surgeon  answered  easily,  "  if 
they  come  into  my  hospital  service,  I  patch  them  up." 

"  Perhaps  that's  enough  for  you,"  Philip  said,  "  but 
the  rest  of  us  ought  to  do  something  to  keep  them  from 
needing  to  be  patched  up." 

130 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

Robert  had  no  wish  to  pluck  this  thought  from  Philip's 
mind ;  he  wanted  Ruth's  husband,  as  he  expected  Philip  to 
become,  to  be  a  man  of  action ;  but  he  also  wanted  these 
actions  to  be  the  result  of  mature  knowledge.  His  point 
of  view  was  not  identical  with  Ruth's.  He  regarded  the 
dangers  of  a  hot,  desperate  encounter  between  the  Rabbi 
and  his  congregation,  as  a  thing  from  which  no  one  who 
really  cared  for  the  young  man's  welfare  should  deter 
him.  He  believed  it  could  not  be  avoided,  if  Philip  were 
really  worth-while.  He  desired  it  also  because  in  his 
opinion  the  stress  of  such  a  trial  was  exactly  what  Ruth 
needed.  Still,  he  thought  the  minister  should  not  be  al 
lowed  to  enter  the  lists  in  his  present  state  of  ignorance 
of  the  forces  with  which  he  had  to  fight.  It  would  be 
sending  a  mere  youth  out  to  lead  an  army.  Even  in  the 
doubtful  event  of  a  victory,  he  would  not  know  how  to 
make  a  wise  use  of  his  power.  Robert  was  pervaded  by 
the  scientist's  distaste  for  untrained  men.  He  meant,  if 
he  could,  to  stimulate  Philip's  courage  and  determination 
while  he,  nevertheless,  delayed  the  critical  hour,  until  the 
untried  fledgling  should  be  properly  equipped. 

"  You're  right !  "  Robert  exclaimed  heartily.  "  Don't 
ever  let  anyone  persuade  you  that  something  oughtn't  to 
be  done  about  these  things,  or  that  you're  not  the  man  to 
do  them !  I  believe  you're  the  very  man  to  attempt  such 
things  right  here  in  Baltimore." 

Philip  beamed  upon  him,  while  Ruth  wondered  what 
perverse  Fate  had  led  her  to  put  her  faith  in  her  unre 
liable  brother-in-law. 

"  But,"  Robert  went  on,  suddenly  changing  his  tone, 
"  it  isn't  enough,  merely  to  do  something !  You've  got 
to  do  the  right  thing.  As  yet  you  don't  know  what  it  is, 
do  you  ?  " 

131 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  No,"  Philip  answered  honestly,  "  but  I  want  to  find 
out — and  now !  " 

"  Good  for  you,"  Robert  continued,  "  but  don't  make 
the  blunder  of  mistaking  a  '  guess  '  for  a  '  know.'  The 
most  pitiful  thing  in  my  line  of  work  isn't  the  silly  self- 
satisfied  doctor  who  looks  at  a  patient  and  fails  to  see 
he  ought  to  be  operated  on  at  once.  It's  the  man  who 
isn't  well-trained,  and  who  knows  something  ought  to  be 
done  without  delay,  but  for  the  life  of  him  doesn't  know 
what  to  do!" 

"  But,"  Philip  urged,  "  suppose  the  patient's  state  is 
desperate.  Oughtn't  your  surgeon  do  the  best  he  can,  even 
if  he  isn't  sure  just  what?" 

"  No !  "  Robert  replied  vehemently.  "  Nature  at  her 
worst  can't  do  a  patient  as  much  harm  as  a  surgeon  whose 
intentions  are  good,  but  whose  anatomy  is  wobbly.  Your 
job  is  to  study,  and  to  think  about  these  conditions  you 
want  to  remedy.  Later  on,  when  you're  sure  you  know, 
act — no  matter  who  tries  to  stop  you !  " 

He  paused;  then  he  went  on,  with  a  return  to  his 
former  lightness  of  manner : 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  by  what  right  I  began  to 
lecture  you,  Doctor.  I'm  afraid  we're  all  preachers  at 
heart ;  but  hurling  sermons  at  a  minister  is  something  like 
carrying  coals  to  Newcastle.  You'll  have  to  forgive  me." 

Philip  was  sincerely  moved  by  the  older  man's  un 
usual  burst  of  serious  encouragement.  Even  though  his 
counsel  was  one  of  delay,  it  was  a  delay  pregnant  with 
hope. 

"  Indeed,"  he  said  with  the  grave  air  of  frank  courtesy 
which  his  congregation  found  so  charming.  "  I  owe  you, 
not  forgiveness,  but  more  gratitude  than  I  can  put  into 

132 


A  PROPHET  IN  SEARCH  OF  EMPLOYMENT 

words.  I  think  your  students  must  find  you  a  wonderful 
teacher.  You've  made  me  see  things.  I'm  going  to  make 
a  better  job  of  my  work  some  day  because  of  what  you 
said." 

The  minister  had  indeed  shaken  off  his  mood  of  de 
jection  and  doubt.  He  was  his  enthusiastic  self  again. 
Ruth,  happy  at  having  gained,  at  least  her  immediate 
end,  threw  her  sweetest  smile  at  Robert,  and  the  surgeon 
prudently  resolved  to  leave  them  to  their  own  devices 
before  his  laurels  should  have  begun  to  lose  their  fresh 
ness. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  rising  and  extending  his  hand  cor 
dially  to  Philip,  "  I've  an  idea  you'd  make  more  of  a  suc 
cess  as  a  pupil  than  I  do  as  a  teacher.  We  don't  often 
have  to  hold  our  students  back.  Good  luck  to  you!  I 
think  I'd  better  run  upstairs  to  my  wife  and  listen  to  a 
preachment  or  two  myself." 

When  he  reported  to  Elizabeth,  her  first  demand  was : 

"  What  on  earth  have  you  been  doing  down-stairs, 
all  this  time?" 

"  I've  got  a  new  profession,"  he  told  her  gaily. 

"  I  hope  the  hours  are  better,"  she  said  significantly. 

"  When  you  learn  about  it,  you  won't  stop  to  count  the 
hours  it  takes,"  he  assured  her.  "  I'm  to  become  a 
Prophet  manufacturer!  History  is  full  of  King  makers 
from  the  original  Warwick  down  to  the  late  Marcus 
Hanna.  But  to  turn  a  man  into  a  prophet — a  Messiah, 
maybe, — is  unique.  You  ought  to  be  a  proud  woman, 
my  dear." 

"  I  hope  you  haven't  been  putting  ideas  into  Philip 
Graetz's  head,"  Elizabeth  exclaimed  sharply. 

"Of  course,"  he  laughed,  "  I  know  you  ladies  would 

133 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

prefer  him  without  any.  But  he  is  a  '  nice '  boy,  isn't 
he  ?  "  Robert  added  irrelevantly. 

When  the  '  nice  boy  '  returned  to  his  rooms  at  the  end 
of  the  evening,  his  faith  in  himself  and  his  mission  was 
stronger  and  more  buoyant  than  ever.  Yet  there  was  but 
one  point  upon  which  there  was  absolute  agreement 
among  his  three  most  interested  counsellors.  David  Gor 
don,  with  his  flat  assertion  of  the  utter  impossibility  of 
Philip's  purposes,  Dr.  Frank,  with  his  encouraging  in 
sistence  upon  a  long  course  of  rigorous  preparation  before 
action,  and  Ruth,  with  her  unheroic  desire  to  save  him 
today,  tomorrow  and  always,  from  any  and  all  peril 
and  unhappiness,  were  in  perfect  accord  in  their  ultimate 
conclusion : 

For  the  present,  at  least,  Philip  should  do  nothing, 


CHAPTER  XI 
A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

WHEN  Philip,  the  morning  after  his  discussion  with 
Ruth  and  Dr.  Frank,  visited  the  Bureau  of  Industrial  Sta 
tistics  and  was  there  placed  in  possession  of  whatever  of 
ficial  information  had  been  collected  regarding  the  Pioneer 
strike,  he  found  Ruth's  surmise  to  have  been  substantially 
correct.  It  appeared  from  the  documents  on  file,  and  from 
the  more  informal  chatter  of  an  obliging  young  clerk, 
that  the  Pioneer  Clothing  Company  was  the  only  plant 
in  Baltimore  of  any  considerable  size  which  had  made 
no  concessions  whatever  to  Union  Labor.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  complaint  regarding  the  physical  condition  of  the 
factory,  which  was,  in  fact,  declared  by  Philip's  informant 
to  be  almost  perfectly  fitted,  both  in  architectural  design 
and  in  its  methods  of  maintenance,  to  meet  the  hygienic 
needs  of  its  occupants.  The  papers,  he  explained,  were 
full  of  allusions  to  a  vigorous  dispute  regarding  a  recent 
change  in  the  scale  of  wages  for  "  piece  work."  Appar 
ently,  the  entire  working  force  was  paid  upon  a  "  piece 
work  "  basis  instead  of  receiving  definite  weekly  salaries. 
Both  the  former  scale  of  wages,  and  the  one  put  into  effect 
immediately  before  the  beginning  of  the  strike,  were 
among  the  papers  placed  at  Philip's  disposal,  but  he  found 
them  totally  incomprehensible.  To  him  they  were  a  hid 
eously  complicated  jumble  of  unfamiliar  names  and  fig 
ures.  He  was  glad  to  toss  them  aside  with  the  comforting 
thought  that  this  phase  of  the  controversy  was  altogether 
irrelevant,  for  one  reason  because,  according  to  the  clerk's 

135 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

version,  the  Pioneer's  rate  of  wages  was,  if  anything, 
slightly  higher  than  the  sums  paid  by  other  factories ;  and 
for  another,  because  at  the  commencement  of  the  negotia 
tions  between  the  Company  and  its  laborers,  Mr.  Clarence 
Kaufman  had  unconditionally  offered  to  submit  all  ques 
tions  relating  to  wages  and  working  hours  to  an  arbitration 
committee  of  three,  of  whom  one  member  was  to  be 
selected  by  himself,  another  by  the  employees,  and  the 
chairman  to  be  the  Professor  of  Economics  in  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University.  Nothing  could  be  fairer  than  such 
a  proposal,  Philip  concluded,  yet  it  had  been  peremptorily 
refused. 

The  entire  conflict,  therefore,  as  Philip  was  able  to 
understand  it,  resolved  itself  into  a  clean-cut  issue  of 
Unionism.  There  had  been,  many  previous  efforts  to 
establish  Union  conditions  in  the  Pioneer  plant — all  of 
which  had  proved  unsuccessful.  Clarence  Kaufman  had 
steadfastly  refused  to  employ  Union  labor,  and  had  here 
tofore  defeated  all  the  numerous  efforts  designed  to  com 
pel  his  abandonment  of  this  position.  The  Company, 
although  the  largest  clothing  manufactory  in  Baltimore, 
the  best  equipped  from  all  physical  standpoints,  and  the 
one  which  seemed  to  pay  the  highest  wages,  was  cer 
tainly  the  least  popular,  not  only  among  the  workers  but 
among  its  capitalistic  competitors.  The  garment  makers 
seemed  to  regard  its  higher  rates  of  payment  and  excel 
lent  shop  conditions  as  bribes  to  induce  them  to  abandon 
their  jusft  right  to  organize,  while  other  Clothing  Com 
panies  apparently  considered  Kaufman's  methods  of 
escaping  the  annoyance  of  Union  interference  by  devices 
which  tended  to  unsettle  the  working  conditions  in  other 
factories,  as  positively  unsportsmanlike. 

136 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

Curiously  enough,  though  the  Pioneer  Company  in 
employing  operators  invariably  rejected  those  who  were 
affiliated  with  any  Union,  a  persistent  craving  to  join  such 
organizations  would  manifest  itself  from  time  to  time 
among  the  men  and  women  in  the  factories.  The  most 
prominent  in  such  movements  were  with  machine-like 
regularity  found  guilty  of  some  infraction  of  discipline, — 
to  all  appearances  completely  unrelated  to  these  attempts 
at  organization, — and  discharged.  The  Pioneer  had  never 
before  flatly  thrown  down  the  gage  to  Unionism  by  stat 
ing  it  would  refuse  to  retain  in  its  employ  men  who  were 
definitely  affiliated  with  organized  labor;  nevertheless, 
such  unruly  workers  mysteriously  disappeared,  and  so 
efficient  was  the  Company's  system  of  manufacture,  that 
it  did  not  seem  to  suffer  appreciably  by  reason  of  the 
constant  changes  in  its  operating  force. 

In  January,  a  new  "  piece  work  "  scale  had  been  quietly 
put  into  effect,  without  much  prior  announcement  of  the 
Corporation's  intention.  This  change, — Mr.  Kaufman 
and  his  associates  insisted — was  in  the  direction  of  equal 
izing  the  opportunities  in  the  different  departments,  and 
upon  the  whole,  so  they  asserted,  involved  an  appreciable 
increase  in  payments — rather  than  a  diminution.  They  said 
the  workers  were  too  illiterate  to  perceive  this,  and  Philip, 
whose  brain  ached  from  his  own  efforts  to  compare  the 
two  scales  intelligently,  was  prepared  to  admit,  ithout  re 
serve,  the  entire  possibility  of  their  misunderstanding.  He 
even  indulged  secret  doubts  as  to  whether  Clarence  Kauf 
man  knew  perfectly  what  it  meant.  Here,  however,  Philip 
was  in  error.  Mr.  Kaufman  had  a  perfect  comprehension 
of  its  most  delicate  implications.  Nevertheless,  whether 
it  was  correctly  interpreted  or  not,  it  created  a  vast  amount 

137 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  dissatisfaction  and  unrest.  Just  because  each  employee 
felt  himself  unequal  to  the  task  of  intelligent  scrutiny,  it 
was  vaguely  felt  that  their  combined  ignorance  might  be 
equal  to  the  feat.  Among  the  men,  there  was  one  of  much 
more  than  average  force,  named  Israel  Ginzberg,  who  had 
been  born  in  this  country  of  Russian  parents.  Fortunately 
or  unfortunately  for  him,  he  was  able  to  speak  and  write 
both  English  and  Yiddish  with  fluency  and  a  certain  crude, 
emotional  eloquence.  He  had  gathered  together  a  number 
of  his  fellows,  and  proposed,  once  more,  the  formation 
of  a  branch  of  one  of  the  nation-wide  Unions.  The  first 
steps  were  taken  in  carefully-guarded  secrecy,  but  the 
movement  spread  through  the  plant  with  the  speed  and 
vigor  of  an  epidemic.  Then  the  inevitable  happened.  Ginz 
berg  found  in  his  pay  envelope  a  politely  impersonal  note 
announcing  the  ability  of  his  employers  to  continue  their 
commercial  careers  without  further  aid  from  him;  but, 
this  time,  the  revolt  had  gone  too  far  to  be  crushed  in  so 
simple  a  manner.  The  great  bulk  of  the  Pioneer's  em 
ployees  abandoned  their  posts  with  thedr  Jeader,  and 
completing  the  details  of  organization,  they  prosecuted 
their  strike  with  determination  and  an  unexpected  degree 
of  resourcefulness.  The  National  body  with  which  they 
affiliated  came  to  their  assistance,  with  advice  and  funds, 
and  Ginzberg  who  under  normal  conditions  might  have 
plodded  obscurely  along  at  his  machine  a  whole  dreary 
life-time,  was  developing  under  the  burden  of  his  new  re 
sponsibilities  a  quality  of  real  leadership.  Philip  read 
some  of  his  manifestos  with  a  genuine  interest.  The  man 
was  certainly  too  prolix — much  too  intemperate,  also.  He 
hurt  his  cause  by  his  constant  habit  of  over-statement,  but 
his  work  was  certainly  human,  and  saturated  with  a  com- 

138 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

pelling  passion.  The  statements  and  arguments  submitted 
on  behalf  of  the  Pioneer  Company  were  never,  Philip 
decided,  the  work  of  Mr.  Kaufman.  They  were  com 
posed  by  well-paid  lawyers  and  advertising  men,  skilfully 
conceived  and  phrased,  and  knit  together  with  threads  of 
irresistible  logic.  There  was  no  answer  to  them,  yet 
Philip  laid  them  down  with  a  feeling  of  coldness — almost 
of  distaste. 

As  the  Rabbi  bundled  together  the  documents  in  the 
case  and  prepared  to  go,  the  clerk  who  was  surprised 
and  curious  at  rinding  any  disinterested  person  willing  to 
(devote  an  entire  morning  to  so  strange  a  pursuit, 
remarked : 

"  Come  in  again,  Sir,  from  time  to  time,  and  I'll  bring 
your  information  up  to  date.  We'd  get  along  better  if 
more  people  took  an  interest  in  these  affairs." 

"  Don't  many  people  ?  "  Philip  asked. 

"  Not  in  this  town,"  the  clerk  told  him  with  a  shrug 
and  a  smile.  "  You're  the  first  man  without  an  axe  to 
grind  who's  asked  us  a  question.  Are  you  writing  a 
paper  on  the  subject?  " 

"  No,"  Philip  said,  "  just  trying  to  find  out  things — 
and  you've  helped  me  a  lot." 

"  There's  going  to  be  a  mass  meeting  of  the  strikers 
on  Wednesday  afternoon  at  Eastern  Hall,"  the  clerk  vol 
unteered,  "  you  might  find  it  interesting,  if  you  want  to 
hear  their  side." 

Philip  thanked  him  again  and  hurried  off.  He  debated 
seriously  with  himself  the  wisdom  of  attending  this  meet 
ing.  His  presence  there  would  certainly  lend  itself  to  mis 
construction.  He  was  not  afraid  of  being  reproached  for 
the  passive  countenance  he  might  appear  to  give  to  the 

139 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

cause  of  the  garment  workers,  but  it  troubled  him  to 
reflect  they  might  consider  his  purpose  to  be  one  of  hostile 
espionage  undertaken  on  behalf  of  Clarence  Kaufman,  the 
President  of  his  synagogue,  and,  in  a  sense,  his  paymaster. 

Besides,  he  had  an  engagement  for  that  afternoon.  A 
great  soprano  was  to  give  a  song  recital  at  the  Peabody 
Institute,  and  cards  of  admission  were  few  and  not  easily 
procured.  Ruth  had  season  tickets  for  all  performances 
at  the  Institute,  and  Philip  had  eagerly  accepted  an  invita 
tion  to  be  her  escort.  Of  course,  he  could  explain  his 
Inability  to  keep  the  appointment,  but  then  he  really 
wanted  very  much  to  go,  and  as  for  the  mass  meeting,  he 
was  not  sure  it  was  a  sensible  adventure  for  a  man  in  his 
equivocal  position.  It  would  be  interesting,  certainly,  but 
on  the  other  hand,  nothing  would  be  said  there  which  he 
had  not  already  read  among  the  documents  at  the  Bureau 
of  Statistics. 

The  soprano  won  an  easy  triumph  in  this  contest,  and 
Philip  and  Ruth  enjoyed  the  concert  with  keen  zest,  and 
without  a  single  premonition  of  the  happening  of  events 
which  were  to  change  the  color  of  both  their  lives.  The 
great  singer  awoke  in  them  such  delicious  thrills  as  she 
sang  tenderly  of  the  joys  and  woes  of  lovers  and  warriors 
of  a  by-gone  age,  that  they  had  no  thoughts  to  squander 
upon  Israel  Ginzberg  and  his  followers,  who  at  that  very 
instant,  in  a  dingy,  smoke-laden  hall,  were  declaiming  in 
shrill,  passionate  voices  about  the  more  sordid  but  none  the 
less  intense  sorrows  of  the  modern  factory  worker. 

While  Ginzberg  in  East  Baltimore  talked  bitterly  of 
the  intolerable  brutality  of  his  more  fortunate  brother- 
Jew,  Qarence  Kaufman,  and  while  Philip  and  Ruth  at 
Mt.  Vernon  Place  drank  in  the  melody  poured  forth  by 

140 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

the  famous  singer  (congratulating  themselves  without 
knowing  exactly  why,  because  they  knew  her  to  share 
with  them  the  bond  of  Race) — in  still  another  quarter  of 
the  city,  alongside  the  huge  buildings  of  the  Pioneer  Cloth 
ing  Company,  one  more  scene  in  this  dull  gray  drama  was 
being  enacted. 

Around  and  around  the  factory  structures,  which 
occupied  an  entire  city  block,  there  marched  a  procession 
of  men  and  women,  moving  very  slowly  but  without 
pause, — like  a  long,  black  caterpillar.  From  inside  the 
factory  could  be  heard  a  steady  whirr  and  clatter  which 
announced  to  the  men  and  women  on  the  pavement  the 
presence  at  their  machines  of  unsympathetic  strangers 
niching  their  bread  from  them.  Now  and  then  as  the  twi 
light  grew  deeper  a  flurry  of  chill  rain  fell,  but  the  patient 
little  regiment  continued  unceasingly  its  endless  circuit  of 
the  walls.  They  were  pickets.  They  had  been  told  the 
law  in  force  in  this  land  of  absolute  equality  to  rich  and 
poor.  They  knew  it  was  their  privilege  to  speak  with 
strike  breakers  if  they  did  so  peaceably,  and  to  persuade 
them,  if  they  could,  of  the  grievous  wrong  they  were  doing 
to  their  more  courageous  comrades.  But  they  had  also 
been  taught — and  compelled  by  police  justices  to  pay  for 
the  information — the  somewhat  inconsistent  duty  of  re 
fraining  from  obstructing  the  side-walks  in  the  slightest 
Degree.  It  was  rather  difficult  to  reconcile  these  interest 
ing  principles  of  our  Jurisprudence,  but  the  ingenuity  of 
the  descendants  of  the  Talmudists  had  not  proved  unequal 
to  the  labor.  As  long  as  the  group  kept  in  orderly  motion 
it  could  not  be  said  to  be  causing  an" impediment  to  traffic. 
There  was  no  City  Ordinance  which  could  abridge  their 
right  to  pass  and  re-pass  any  designated  place  upon  the 

141 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

public  streets.  Moreover,  the  sight  of  these  dejected  men, 
with  their  dark,  woe-begone  faces,  and  the  women,  ill 
protected  from  the  rigors  of  the  weather,  was  not  without 
a  definite  dramatic  appeal.  The  strikers  realized  this,  and 
the  procession  of  unemployed  at  the  factory  door  had 
become  a  daily  incident  of  the  closing  hour. 

About  the  wide  entrance  to  the  plant  was  grouped  a 
file  of  blue-coated  policemen,  no  less  patient  and  far  more 
alert  in  appearance,  than  the  strikers  they  had  come  to 
observe.  These  men  had  no  grievance  of  any  kind  against 
the  rebellious  garment  workers.  If  they  had  any  preju 
dices  on  the  subject  they  were  mainly  against  the  "  scabs." 
Still,  a  policeman's  primary  duty  is  to  preserve  order  and 
to  obey  the  commands  of  his  superiors.  Therefore,  the 
policemen  on  duty  stoically  accepted  their  service  here  as 
part  of  the  day's  work  and  were  grateful  the  strikers  were 
mostly  Jews  and  Slavs,  instead  of  upstanding  Irishmen 
like  many  of  themselves.  Indeed,  they  ordinarily  found 
the  former  employees  of  the  Pioneer  Company  rather  do 
cile.  These  immigrants  had  brought  from  their  native 
lands  across  the  sea  a  wholesome  terror  of  the  Law,  and  its 
inevitable  disasters  for  poor  folk.  There  were  often  mur 
murs  of  remonstrance,  but  never  definite  defiance  of  con 
stituted  authority.  Now  and  then,  bitter  words  between 
some  striker  and  strike-breaker  would  develop  into  an 
interchange  of  blows.  Twice  during  the  course  of  the 
trouble,  angry  gusts  of  passion  had  swept  over  the  crowd, 
and  stones  had  been  thrown  at  the  strike-breakers  as  they 
left  the  buildings.  But  the  police,  up  to  this  time,  had 
never  been  resisted.  When  they  decided  to  make  an  arrest 
there  were  no  attempts  at  rescue.  Some  difficulties  had 
been  anticipated  on  account  of  the  volatile  nature  of  those 

142 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

strikers  of  Italian  extraction,  but  less  violent  Jewish  and 
Slavic  comrades  had  held  them  in  leash.  The  police  cap 
tain  in  charge  extended  heart-felt  congratulations  to  him 
self  whenever  he  reflected  upon  the  credit  he  would  prob 
ably  receive  as  the  result  of  a  task  whose  difficulties 
were  few. 

The  dusk  had  almost  faded  into  night  when  the 
rhythmic  throbbing  of  the  machinery  within  the  buildings 
ceased.  The  adjoining  streets,  however,  remained  under 
the  blue-white  glare  of  the  electric  lamps  no  less  bright 
than  in  the  day  except  for  the  sharp  shadows  around  the 
angles  of  the  walls.  Under  this  cold  piercing  light  the 
weary  line  of  marchers  continued  to  make  its  monotonous 
progress — as  though,  like  their  fathers  of  old,  they  be 
lieved  the  walls  of  this  new  Jericho  must  fall  when  they 
had  made  the  prescribed  number  of  circuits,  and  sounded 
their  trumpet  call  of  justice. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  file  of  policemen  displayed 
signs  of  a  greater  activity,  the  space  about  the  wide  door 
way  was  cleared,  the  gates  opened,  and  a  number  of  men 
issued  timidly  forth  and  hurried  away.  There  were  few 
women  among  the  operators  who  were  now  at  labor  for 
the  Pioneer  Company.  The  first  of  those  who  emerged 
were  permitted  to  go  without  interference,  but  soon,  the 
pickets  appeared  to  pluck  up  courage,  and  groups  gathered 
about  the  departing  laborers,  gesticulating  excitedly,  and 
raking  them,  fore  and  aft,  with  vigorous  arguments  set 
ting  forth  the  iniquity  of  their  behavior.  At  least  two  or 
three  of  the  strikers  invariably  talked  at  the  same  time 
and  the  result  was  an  incoherent  jumble  of  mere  syllables. 
Now  and  then,  however,  such  'expressions  as  "  scab  "  and 
"  robber  "  would  float  for  an  instant  upon  the  surface 

143 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  the  noisy  confusion  of  words.  Most  of  the  strike 
breakers  entered  into  no  rejoinders  but  elbowed  their  way 
out  of  the  crowd  assisted  by  the  police.  A  few  remained 
to  toss  back  the  same  quality  of  abusive  argument  they 
had  received  and  a  little  passion-stirred  group  became  sta 
tionary  upon  the  pavement.  Two  policemen  hurriedly 
approached. 

"  Here,"  one  bawled  roughly,  "  you've  got  to  move  on. 
You  can't  block  up  the  street  this  way." 

One  of  the  strikers,  evidently  a  spokesman,  answered 
respectfully,  but  firmly  in  English  grammatically  perfect 
in  spite  of  a  marked  accent. 

"  We  have  a  right  to  talk  to  them  provided  we  don't 
threaten.  Judge  Perkins  said  so." 

"Ye've  got  no  right  to  make  them  stand  and  listen 
to  ye,  if  they  don't  want  to,"  the  policeman  answered, 
and  assuming  without  further  parley  a  disinclination  to 
listen  on  the  part  of  the  strike-breakers,  he  repeated 
roughly  his  command : 

"  Come, — move  on — clear  the  path !  " 

He  began  none  too  gently,  but  with  no  ill-will,  to  push 
the  crowd  away.  Several  other  patrolmen  came  to  his 
assistance.  The  group  receded  with  irritating  slowness. 
It  seemed  hard  to  them  to  have  waited  in  the  drizzle  all 
these  hours  for  a  word  with  the  men  who  were  stealing 
their  jobs,  only  to  be  cheated  at  the  end  in  this  unfeeling 
manner.  They  did  not  resist,  but  their  obedience  was 
sullen  and  incomplete. 

Just  then,  the  crowd  began  to  grow  perceptibly  larger. 
The  strikers  who  had  spent  the  afternoon  at  the  mass- 
meeting,  listening  to  Ginzberg's  fervid  recital  of  their 
grievances,  and  growing  mad  with  self-pity,  had  made 

144 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

their  way  up-town  to  the  factory  almost  in  a  body.  They 
pushed  closer  to  the  entrance,  to  discover  the  cause  of  the 
disturbance,  and  the  retreating  current  of  obstructionists 
forced  back  by  the  police,  was  carried  forward  again  by 
this  new  and  stronger  impetus.  Meanwhile,  more  women 
and  men  were  issuing  from  the  factory,  only  to  become 
wedged  in  the  throng.  One  of  the  pickets  slipped  and  fell 
upon  the  wet  pavement,  and  those  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
crowd,  unable  either  to  see  or  hear  clearly,  believed  he  had 
been  deliberately  felled  to  the  ground.  The  temper  of  all, 
— the  strikers,  the  strike-breakers,  and  the  squad  of  officers 
— became  ugly.  Each  faction  was  sure  some  real  injury 
was  intended  to  it.  The  Captain  ordered  his  men  to  draw 
their  clubs  and  called  to  the  crowd  to  stand  back. 

"  We  are  going!  to  clear  the  street !  "  he  shouted, 
"  stand  back !  You'll  get  hurt  if  you  don't." 

Those  nearest  the  factory  door  would  have  been  only 
too  glad  to  escape,  but  their  efforts  in  that  direction  were 
effectually  blocked  by  the  new-comers  in  the  rear,  who 
were  themselves  well  out  of  reach  of  the  dreaded  clubs, 
and  who  in  addition  were  still  seething  with  the  emotions 
of  the  afternoon's  meeting.  Meanwhile,  the  blue-coated 
file  pressed  irresistibly  forward.  They  were  as  consider 
ate  as  they  could  possibly  afford  to  be,  remembering  their 
primary  duty  to  clear  the  street,  but  it  was  inevitable  that 
some  unfortunates  should  be -tightly  wedged  in  the  strug 
gling  mass.  Screams,  of  women  as  well  as  men,  began  to 
mingle  themselves  with  threats  and  curses.  Several  more 
men  lost  their  footing  and  fell,  and  above  all  the  noise 
there  was  heard  the  blood-curdling  shriek  of  one  tortured 
creature  who  was  trampled  upon  in  the  confusion.  By  this 
time,  there  was  an  uncontrollable  frenzy  of  fury  and  ter- 

10  145 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ror  among  the  men  who  had  marched  up  town  from  the 
meeting,  where  they  had  been  told  how  lightly  their  lives 
were  valued  by  their  oppressors.  Their  masters  were 
finding  starving  them  too  slow  a  process.  They  were 
about  to  have  them  crushed  to  death  under  the  feet  of  their 
own  comrades,  or  the  brutal  clubs  of  the  police.  It  was  a 
game  at  which  two  could  play.  Suddenly  above  the  heads 
of  the  struggling  men,  and  into  the  doorway  of  the  fac 
tory,  there  was  swiftly  hurled  a  well-directed  fragment 
of  brick.  Those  near  the  entrance  heard  a  sharp,  hideous, 
cracking  noise  as  the  missile  crashed  squarely  against  the 
head  of  a  man  who  was  in  the  act  of  crossing  the 
threshold.  Without  a  single  cry  or  murmur,  he  swayed 
unsteadily  for  an  instant,  crumpled  up  and  fell,  lying  half 
within  and  half  without  the  building,  a  dishevelled, 
grotesque  bundle  of  garments  and  bruised  flesh. 

The  crowd  seemed  awed  by  this  sudden  manifestation 
of  its  own  desperate  mood.  The  deadly,  though  still 
shapeless  thoughts  which  had  been  finding  lodgment  in  the 
minds  of  many,  had  without  warning  been  translated  into 
deed,  like  a  prayer  of  unthinking  hate,  too  promptly 
answered.  The  result  lay  there,  uncomplainingly,  in  the 
entrance  way  to  the  factory,  the  blood  slowly  trickling 
from  the  wounded  head.  How  badly  the  man  was  injured, 
or  what  results  might  follow,  it  was  impossible  to  fore 
see.  Enough — perhaps  far  too  much — had  been  done 
for  today!  The  crowd  began  rapidly  to  melt  away. 
But  not  before  the  keen-eyed  police-captain  had  called  to 
two  of  his  men : 

"  That  man  with  the  brown  derby !  on  the  curb,  see  ? 
Get  him,  and  the  man  on  each  side !  It  was  one  of  those !  " 

Ten  minutes  later  the  street  was  almost  deserted.  A 
146 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

stray  policeman  was  to  be  seen  here  and  there,  by  way  of 
an  excess  of  caution.  The  factory  had  completely  dis 
gorged  its  workers  and  had  settled  down  to  a  night  of 
well-guarded  quiet.  The  strikers  had  returned  to  their 
homes,  with  a  confused  realization  of  having,  somehow, 
put  themselves  in  the  wrong. 

Philip  driving  home  with  Ruth  after  the  concert,  found 
his  afternoon's  enjoyment  unmarred  by  any  echo  of  the 
unseemly  little  incident.  If  any  rumor  regarding  it  drifted 
up-town,  it  did  not  appear  sufficiently  important  or  dra 
matic  to  be  worth  repetition.  The  newspapers,  next  day, 
gave  it  scant  consideration,  merely  printing  the  barest 
details,  and  stating  that  the  physicians  at  the  Mercy  Hos 
pital  feared  the  injured  man — whose  name  was  Rosen — 
had  sustained  a  fractured  skull.  It  was  also  added  that  a 
striker  named  Isaac  Clutsky,  after  three  hours  of  rigid 
questioning  in  the  office  of  Detective  MacBurney,  had  ad 
mitted  throwing  the  brick  and  was  being  held  by  the 
authorities  to  await  the  result  of  Rosen's  injuries. 

The  following  day  the  newspapers  printed  nothing  at 
all  about  the  occurrence,  but  on  Saturday  there  was  an 
obscure  paragraph  in  both  morning  journals,  telling  the 
public  of  Rosen's  death. 

After  which  things  resumed,  once  more,  their  accus 
tomed  course.  Perhaps  the  pickets  at  the  factory  were 
somewhat  fewer  and  more  cautious,  the  detachment  of 
patrolmen  slightly  increased  in  number,  and  more  vigilant. 
The  dead  man,  who  had  come  from  Rochester  to  find 
work  and  death,  in  Baltimore,  was  duly  buried,  and  appar 
ently,  forgotten.  If  any  hearts  were  stricken  because  his 
life  had  been  so  suddenly  shattered,  they  beat  in  far-away 
cities,  and  no  one  here  seemed  either  to  remember  or  to 

147 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

care — no  one,  except  Clutsky,  caged  like  an  animal  in  a 
grated  cell,  brooding  dumbly  on  the  infinitesimal  instant 
it  had  taken  him  to  tear  down  forever  the  whole  fabric 
of  his  happiness;  but  Clutsky  was  a  negligible  creature, 
esteemed  little  by  his  comrades  or  his  former  employers. 
His  fellow  workmen  scornfully  decided  his  ruin  had  been 
principally  the  result  of  his  own  stupidity  in  consenting  to 
talk  to  the  detectives.  If  he  had  held  his  tongue  and 
awaited  the  coming  of  a  lawyer,  no  one  could  have  proved 
conclusively  whose  hand  had  hurried  Rosen  out  of  the 
world. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  appearances,  the  dead  strike 
breaker  was  not  entirely  forgotten.  It  was  his  fate  to  be 
remembered  most  by  men  who  had  never  seen  him  in  life 
and  who  would  have  turned  from  him  disdainfully  if  he 
had  entered  their  presence. 

While  the  strike  continued  to  drag  its  length  wearily 
along,  and  the  Pioneer's  stockholders  to  indulge  in  faint 
murmurs,  and  while  the  garment  workers'  Union  took 
note  with  increasing  dread  of  its  rapidly  diminishing  treas 
ury,  three  very  exclusive  night  conferences  were  held  at 
the  home  of  Mr.  Clarence  Kaufman.  The  first  night,  his 
guests  included  only  an  eminent  lawyer  and  a  ragged  fur 
tive-eyed  Russian  Jew,  who  was  commonly  reputed  to  be 
one  of  the  loudest-voiced  partisans  of  the  rebellious 
workers.  The  second  night  found  Mr.  Kaufman's  library 
polluted  by  the  blighting  presence  of  four  unkempt  resi 
dents  of  the  East  Side,  whose  words  were  dignified  by  the 
minute  attention  of  three  members  of  the  legal  fraternity, 
and  recorded  in  the  form  of  swiftly-pencilled  hiero 
glyphics  by  an  expert  stenographer. 

On  the  third  night,  the  entire  executive  board  of  the 
148 


A  LITTLE  MATTER  OF  HOMICIDE 

Pioneer  Qothing  Company  remained  until  a  late  hour 
with  Mr.  Kaufman  and  his  attorneys,  talking  long  and 
earnestly  in  subdued  voices  as  they  filled  the  room  with 
expensive  cigar  smoke.  Two  days  later,  a  deadly  mine 
was  exploded  in  the  camp  of  the  enemy  when  the  Grand 
Jury  "  Upon  their  oaths  presented  Israel  Ginzberg,"  the 
heart  and  soul  of  the  strike,  because  "  before  said  murder 
aiid,  felony  were  committed,  he  did  at  a  place  of  public 
assembly,  in  said  City  of  Baltimore,  known  as  Eastern 
Hall,  unlawfully,  maliciously  and  feloniously,  incite,  pro 
cure,  counsel,  and  command  the  said  Isaac  Clutsky  to  do 
and  commit  said  felony  and  murder;  against  the  peace 
and  dignity  of  the  State  of  Maryland." 


CHAPTER     XII 
How  A  POPULAR  HERO  is  MADE 

IT  was  about  half  past  four  in  the  short  winter  after 
noon  when  two  men  in  "  plain  clothes  "  met  Israel  Ginz- 
berg  on  his  way  home  from  a  meeting  of  one  of  the 
strikers'  committees,  and  quietly  insisted  upon  his  accom 
panying  them  to  the  Central  Police  Station.  The  choice 
of  this  hour  was  not  mere  accident.  The  last  editions  of 
the  evening  newspapers  were  then  almost  ready  for  the 
presses;  Judges  and  Magistrates,  with  inconvenient 
notions  on  the  subject  of  bail,  had  long  since  gone  to  their 
homes,  and  there  was  a  fair  possibility  of  a  convenient 
night  devoted  to  pleasant  and  illuminating  conversation 
between  a  prisoner  with  a  nervous  temperament,  and  a 
detective  or  two  with  inquiring  minds. 

It  was  about  half  past  eight  on  the  same  evening 
when  David  Gordon,  carrying  a  leather  brief  bag  in  one 
hand,  walked  briskly  into  the  Station-house  building, 
and  up  to  the  brass  rail,  behind  which  the  Lieutenant  in 
charge  sat  writing  laboriously  in  a  ponderous  book  of 
records. 

"  Good  evening,  Lieutenant,"  the  lawyer  said  crisply, 
"  my  name's  David  Gordon." 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Gordon,"  the  Lieutenant  replied 
deferentially,  looking  up  from  his  defek,  "  maybe  you 
remember  me.  I  was  a  witness  for  the  Railroad  Company 
in  the  Atley  case." 

"  Of  course  I  remember  you,"  David  answered  easily. 
"If  you  weren't  a  policeman,  I'd  expect  you  to  harbor  a 

150 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

grudge  against  me.  But  you  fellows  have  better  sense. 
You  know  it's  all  part  of  the  day's  work." 

A  genial,  tolerant  grin  overspread  the  Lieutenant's 
honest  face. 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  he  agreed,  "  of  course.  But  really,  the 
accident  did  happen  just  the  way  I  told  it." 

David  nodded. 

"  A  Jury  is  like  one's  wife,"  he  smiled,  "  we  know  she's 
talking  nonsense,  but  we  have  to  do  what  she  says." 

The  Lieutenant's  laugh  was  heartier  than  the  lawyer 
had  dared  to  hope.  When  he  relapsed  into  official  grav 
ity,  he  inquired : 

"  What  can  we  do  for  you,  Mr.  Gordon?  " 

"  You've  got  a  client  of  mine  locked  up  here — Israel 
Ginzberg.  I  want  to  see  him." 

The  lieutenant  twisted  around  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  It's  a  serious  charge,  Mr.  Gordon, — accomplice  to 
murder.  Captain  MacBurney  said  he  wanted  to  talk  with 
the  man  before  he  saw  anyone  else." 

It  was  evident  that  the  Captain  of  Detectives  had 
decided  a  few  hours  of  solitude  might  put  the  accused 
into  a  more  pleasant  frame  of  mind  for  the  proposed 
interview. 

"  If  I  let  you  see  him,"  the  Lieutenant  went  on  doubt 
fully,  "  I'm  going  to  get  into  trouble." 

"  I  wouldn't  want  to  get  you  in  trouble,"  David 
remarked  with  evident  concern,  "  but  for  all  that,  I've  got 
to  see  the  man.  I'll  'phone  MacBurney.  Is  he  at  home  or 
at  headquarters  ?  " 

The  Lieutenant,  happy  at  shifting  this  inconvenient 
decision  from  his  own  shoulders,  promptly  put  his  supe- 

151 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

rior  into  telephone  communication  with  the  lawyer,  and 
listened  eagerly  to  David's  end  of  the  conversation. 

"Hello!  Captain!  This, is  David  Gordon.  I'm  at  the 
Central,  and  I  want  to  see  a  client — Israel  Ginzberg.  Yes, 
I  said  David  Gordon  *  *  *  Well,  I  suppose  I  may 
amuse  myself  with  a  criminal  case  once  in  ten  years  if 
I  choose  *  *  *  No,  I  mean  to  see  him  now, — at  once, 
— immediately  *  *  *  We  both  know  what  the  law 
is,  Captain,  and  I'm  accustomed  to  taking  all  it  gives  me 

*  *     *     Well,  you  know  I  can  always  manage  to  get  hold 
of  a  Judge  or  two,  even  in  the  night  time;  besides,  it's 
only  three  blocks  to  the  nearest  newspaper  office    *     *     * 
You  bet, — I'm  just  pining  for  a  chance  to  give  a  sob  story 
to  a  reporter    *     *     *     Oh  well,  you  musn't  take  it  that 
way,  Captain      *    *     *     You're  a  fighting  man  yourself 

*  *     *     If  I  ran  away  when  you  barked  at  me,  you'd 
never  hire  me  next  time  you  got  into  a  mess !  " 

He  beckoned  to  the  Lieutenant  to  take  the  telephone 
receiver. 

"  He  says  I  may  see  Ginzberg,"  David  announced,  "  he 
wants  to  tell  you  so." 

Without  further  delay,  a  turnkey  led  the  lawyer  toward 
the  lock-up  in  the  rear  of  the  building.  The  structure  had 
originally  been  a  school-house,  and  in  happier  days,  had 
echoed  the  pleasant  treble  voices  of  boys  and  girls,  intent 
on  devoting  themselves  to  as  little  work  and  as  much 
play  as  their  watchful  teachers  would  permit.  When  the 
slowly  rising  tide  of  commerce  had  crept  northward,  the 
children  had  been  transferred  to  a  more  remote  section, 
and  the  ugly  brick  building  had  degenerated  into  this  grim 
machine  for  drilling  into  the  less  pliant  minds  of  adults, 
stern — if  somewhat  hazy — lessons  regarding  the  attitude 

152 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

of  the  Criminal  Law  toward  the  outcasts  ensnared  in  its 
meshes.  The  first  and  most  striking  principle  to  be  ab 
sorbed  by  these  hapless  pupils  seemed  to  be  that  in  this 
world  of  punishments,  men  are  bitterly  cruel  to  one 
another.  This  elementary  truism  was  proclaimed  in  un 
mistakable  manner  by  the  rows  of  barred  iron  cells,  each 
(with  its  wooden  bench  and  its  concrete  floor,  within 
which  were  locked,  pending  further  experimentation,  the 
men  and  women  who  were,  under  our  humane  and  scru 
pulous  jurisprudence,  presumed  to  be  spotlessly  innocent 
until  a  jury  of  their  peers  should  in  its  sapience  think  wise 
to  continue  the  rigors  they  had  already  tasted.  The  steel 
cells  had  been  erected  in  the  large  hall  which  had  once 
been  the  school's  assembly  room.  Here  the  little  scholars 
had  gathered  together  on  Friday  afternoons  to  "speak 
pieces,"  and  on  less  important  days  to  listen  to  official 
announcements  of  petty  weal  and  woe.  The  most  unman 
ageable  of  the  children  had  been  sent  to  this  room  to 
be  disciplined  by  the  principal,  instead  of  by  their  own 
teacher,  and  many  an  anxious  boy  or  girl  whose  former 
bravado  had  singularly  melted  away  during  the  long  min 
utes  of  detention,  had  awaited  with  trepidation  the 
inevitable  hour  of  reckoning. 

Men  and  women,  no  wiser  than  their  childish  prede 
cessors,  were  now  being  "  kept  in  "  after  another  fashion, 
within  the  same  walls.  The  lighting  of  the  cell-tier, 
though  dim  and  sepulchral,  was  amply  sufficient  to  enable 
the  guards  to  observe  the  behavior  of  each  of  the  pris 
oners.  It  was  still  early  in  the  night,  and  many  of  the 
cages  were,  as  yet,  untenanted.  In  several,  men  to  whom 
this  experience  was  no  novelty,  lay  stretched  out  serenely 
on  their  benches,  sleeping  composedly,  if  not  always  noise- 

153 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

lessly.  In  another  cell,  a  hopelessly  intoxicated  human 
animal  declaimed  indignantly,  though  incoherently, 
against  the  tyranny  of  all  constituted  authority,  his  maud 
lin  ravings  being  now  and  then  interrupted  by  disgusting 
paroxysms  of  nausea.  In  the  women's  section  at  the 
opposite  side  of  the  room,  a  slatternly  creature  sat  all 
huddled  together,  her  shapeless  body  quivering  with  harsh 
racking  sobs ;  but  for  the  most  part,  the  inhabitants  of 
these  grated  tenements  kept  silent  vigil,  crouching  stolidly, 
each  on  his  bench,  looking  out  through  the  bars  with  dull, 
hopeless  eyes.  They  had  blundered  into  a  trap ;  there  was 
nothing  much  to  be  done  about  it  except  to  submit  to  what 
ever  infliction  the  successful  hunters  might  find  fit  to 
impose.  Meanwhile,  for  tonight,  they  must  wait.  Over 
the  whole  room,  despite  the  open  windows,  there  hung  a 
sickening  odor  of  mingled  disinfecting  solutions  and  the 
stenches  for  which  these  attempted  remedies  had  been 
devised.  David  Gordon,  although  not  unduly  fastidious, 
sniffed  rebelliously,  as  he  followed  the  turnkey. 

He  was  led  to  a  cell  at  the  end  of  the  room  furthest 
removed  from  the  entrance.  The  lawyer's  quick  eye 
noticed  at  once  the  absence  of  any  neighbors  in  the  cages 
next  the  prisoner.  Mr.  Ginzberg,  it  was  evident,  was 
thought  by  his  instructors  in  practical  ethics,  a  proper  sub 
ject  for  searching  and  uninterrupted  communion  with 
his  own  soul. 

"  That's  him !  "  the  turnkey  announced,  pointing  with 
his  thumb. 

David  did  not  need  to  be  introduced.  He  and  the 
labor  leader  had  exchanged  words  before,  besides  which 
the  lawyer  had  taken  the  trouble  to  learn  many  details 
regarding  his  new  client, — his  temperament,  his  habits  and 

154 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

his  unfortunate  diction.  An  ability  for  unusually  rapid 
work,  and  a  curiosity  about  seemingly  irrelevant  details 
were  part  of  David's  equipment,  and  he  had  been  devoting 
his  energies  exclusively  to  this  matter  for  the  past  three 
hours.  He  had  made  a  mental  wager  with  himself  to  the 
effect  that  Ginzberg's  composure  would  by  this  time  be 
completely  shattered,  but  he  had  not  expected  to  find  him 
so  utterly  unmanned. 

His  cell  was  sufficiently  roomy  to  enable  its  occupant 
to  indulge  in  three  uninterrupted  paces.  In  this  restricted 
space,  however,  Ginzberg  must  have  traveled  many  miles 
during  the  few  hours  of  his  confinement.  He  had  been 
unable  to  remain  seated.  He  had  darted  restlessly  to 
and  fro,  dramatizing  for  himself  the  bewilderment  and 
anguish  of  his  wife,  wondering  why  none  of  his  men  came 
to  his  help,  and  how  many  more  hours  he  could  endure 
this  torture  before  the  mental  confusion  he  already  felt 
would  become  downright  lunacy.  He  was  weak  from 
hunger,  yet  he  could  not  think  of  food  without  a  posi 
tive  physical  qualm  of  illness ;  he  felt  feverish  and  faint ; 
his  features  worked  convulsively,  and  more  than  once  he 
was  guilty  of  unconcealed  tears. 

The  turnkey  looked  at  the  man  with  open  scorn  and 
thanked  the  God  who  had  created  him  an  Irishman  with 
out  superfluous  nerves. 

David  came  directly  to  the  grating  and  grasped  Ginz 
berg's  hand. 

"  I'm  Gordon,"  he  began  with  a  reassuring  directness. 
"  You  recognize  me, — don't  you  ?  Some  of  your  friends 
have  employed  me  to  take  care  of  you.  I've  seen  the 
Union  people,  too." 

155 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Oh,  thank  God,  you've  come !  "  exclaimed  Ginzberg, 
too  unstrung  to  indulge  in  pretences  of  fortitude.  "  I 
couldn't  have  stood  it  another  hour.  I  was  going  mad. 
You  must  get  me  out  of  here !  My  wife's  been  here.  The 
guard  told  me.  She  was  crying ;  they  wouldn't  let  her  see 
me.  I  don't  know  how  she'll  get  along  without  me — the 
children,  too !  And  what  have  I  done  they  can  lock  me  up 
for  ?  Nothing !  For  God's  sake,  Mr.  Gordon,  get  me  out 
of  here!" 

David  gripped  the  man  by  the  arm  and  spoke  to  him 
sternly,  though  almost  in  a  whisper : 

"  I  came  here  to  find  a  labor  leader  for  a  client,  not  a 
baby.  Pull  yourself  together,  man!  If  you're  going  to 
send  each  one  of  this  riff-raff  out  of  here,  to  tell  how  you 
sat  down  and  howled  like  a  whipped  cur,  nobody  will 
be  able  to  help  you.  Don't  worry  about  your  wife.  I'll 
look  after  her.  You  and  I  have  a  man-sized  job  before 
us !  Stop  whining,  and  let's  get  down  to  work !  " 

Ginzberg's  expression  was  one  of  actual  astonishment 
to  find  such  brutality  and  absence  of  sympathy  in  the 
behavior  of  his  new-found  ally.  Nevertheless,  the  law- 
Iyer's  sharp  words  had  the  desired  effect.  Ginzberg 
became  silent,  and  at  least  outwardly,  collected,  although 
his  most  pronounced  emotion  at  the  minute  was  one  of 
angry  disappointment. 

Meanwhile,  David,  noticing  an  inquisitive  face  peer 
ing  through  each  cell  door,  and  presuming  a  pair  of  ears 
to  be  attached  to  each  face,  called  to  the  turnkey. 

"  Go  tell  the  Lieutenant,"  he  ordered,  with  the  calm 
assurance  of  one  who  anticipates  no  doubt  of  the  granting 
of  his  requests,  "  I  can't  consult  with  this  man  out  here. 
Tell  him  I  want  a  private  room.  There  are  papers  to  be 
signed.  It  isn't  light  enough  to  read  them  here,  and  I'm 

156 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

not  used  to  talking  through  bars.  Say  I'll  be  responsible 
for  the  man's  safe  keeping." 

A  few  minutes  later,  David  and  his  client  were  seated 
in  an  upstairs  room  before  a  small  table.  Except  for  the 
two  chairs  and  table  the  room  was  bare.  The  windows 
were  covered  with  an  iron  grating  and  its  heavy  wooden 
door  had  been  ostentatiously  bolted  from  the  outside. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  a  private  consultation  room.  It  was 
a  relief,  if  only  temporary,  from  the  abhorrent  cell,  with 
its  loathsome  neighbors.  Ginzberg  began  to  reflect  with 
some  feeling  of  reassurance  that  if  his  mentor  was  ungen 
tle  to  him  he  was  correspondingly  forceful  in  his  behalf. 

The  lawyer  laid  his  brief  case  on  the  table,  and 
unlocked  it,  disclosing  a  mass  of  papers  and  a  compact, 
but  rather  inviting  little  bundle,  containing  luncheon. 

"  To  begin  with — eat  that !  "  he  commanded.  "  The 
meat  is  '  kosher.'  I  s'pose  you  haven't  had  any  supper !  " 

"  No,"  Ginzberg  said,  secretly  tempted,  but  feeling  the 
necessity  of  maintaining  his  pose,  "  thank  you  just  the 
same,  but  I  don't  think  I  can  eat  in  here,  Mr.  Gordon. 
You  must  fix  it  so  I  can  go  home ! ' 

"  You  can  eat  when  I  tell  you  to,  or  do  most  anything 
else,"  David  insisted,  without  one  sign  of  weakening. 
"  Hungry  men  take  longer  to  think,  and  I've  no  time  to 
waste.  Whenever  you  can't  manage  to  obey  orders  you 
can  get  one  of  the  small  fry  to  look  after  you.  I  do  my 
fighting  with  the  other  side — not  with  my  own  clients." 

The  overawed  Ginzberg  began  to  munch  the  sand 
wiches  with  docility. 

David  went  on  with  his  dictatorial  and  uncompromis 
ing  remarks. 

"  You've  got  to  get  this  idea  of  going  home  out  of 
your  head,"  he  announced,  "  you're  going  to  get  out  of 

157 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

here  in  the  morning,  but  you're  not  going  home.    You're 
going  to  Jail !  " 

Ginzberg  laid  down  the  half-consumed  sandwich  and 
once  more  showed  signs  of  collapse. 

"  I  won't !  "  he  wailed,  "  I  can't !  I  can't  stand  it !  I'll 
be  crazy  in  a  day.  Besides,  there's  my  wife,  and  the 
Union,  too.  There  must  be  some  way  to  get  me  out! 
For  God's  sake,  try ! " 

David  eyed  him  with  apparent  unconcern,  while  he 
motioned  him  pitilessly  back  to  his  food. 

"  Now  listen,"  he  began,  "  don't  be  a  baby!  This  job 
we're  going  to  do  isn't  one  to  be  begun  by  whimpering  be 
cause  your  wife  has  cried  a  little.  I'm  going  to  see  her 
when  I  leave  here,  and  I'll  bet  she's  behaving  better  than 
you  are.  She  isn't  going  to  starve.  I'll  take  care  of 
that.  Meanwhile,  the  fiercest  labor  battle  that  ever  hap- 
\J  pened  in  this  State  is  going  to  be  fought  about  you — 
Israel  Ginzsberg — and  you  sit  there  snivelling  like  a 
scared  child.  You  haven't  even  a  chance  to  say  whether 
you  want  to  fight  or  not.  If  you  don't  win,  the  Pioneer 
crowd  will  smash  you  as  though  you  were  a  cockroach." 

The  simile  seemed  trying  to  Ginzberg's  none  too 
robust  appetite,  and  David,  perceiving  he  had  been  too 
vivid,  made  a  wry  smile  of  discomfiture  and  went  on. 

"  So  we've  got  to  win.  There's  nothing  else  for  it. 
And  I  can  save  you ;  perhaps  some  other  lawyer  couldn't, 
but  I  can — that  is,  if  you  do  precisely  as  I  bid  you.  As 
I'm  working  up  this  defense,  you're  to  be  a  popular  hero. 
You  can't  blubber  the  words  I'm  putting  into  your  mouth 
through  your  tears !  " 

In  spite  of  these  serious  words,  or  perhaps  just  be 
cause  Gordon  seemed  perfectly  willing  to  face  a  bad 
situation  without  illusions,  his  client  found  a  definite 
solace  in  his  lawyer's  strength. 

158 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

"  But,"  Ginzberg  urged,  "  you  could  do  all  this  better 
if  I  were  out  of  here — if  I  were  home!  couldn't  you? 
And  it  must  be  easy  to  get  bail  for  me.  I  haven't  done 
anything.  Any  Judge  can  see  that !  " 

David  shook  his  head  peremptorily. 

"  Any  Judge  couldn't  see  that.  I  can't  see  it  myself. 
You  don't  seem  to  understand  the  seriousness  of  this 
affair.  Were  you  playing  with  words  all  the  time  ?  Did 
you  think  you  could  begin  a  war  with  people  like  the 
Pioneer,  and  then  when  they  began  to  strike  back  at 
you,  call  out  like  a  little  boy  that  you  didn't  want  to 
play  any  more  ?  There's  a  man  dead !  You're  accused  of 
inciting  a  murder !  " 

"  I  didn't  kill  him,"  Ginzberg  protested  excitedly.  "  I 
didn't  even  go  with  the  men  to  the  factory.  I  was  miles 
away.  What  did  I  have  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  You  did  kill  him!  "  David  insisted  sternly,  "  I  don't 
say  you  did  wrong,  and  I'm  going  to  save  you  from  any 
punishment,  but  you  did  kill  him.  You  crushed  his  skull 
with  the  speech  you  made!  You  can't  toss  dynamite 
around  and  pretend  surprise  when  it  explodes.  Are  you 
going  to  say  you  didn't  expect  anyone  to  take  you  seri 
ously  ?  Everyone  will  laugh  at  you !  Nobody  will  believe 
you !  You've  got  to  be  a  man  and  give  your  action  some 
dignity,  whether  you  want  to  or  not !  " 

The  lawyer  was  observing  his  client  narrowly,  and 
noted  with  the  artist's  pleasure  in  his  workmanship  the 
invigorating  effect  of  his  words. 

Ginzberg  was  silent  for  a  minute.  "  Then  I  can't  get 
bail  ?  "  he  asked,  but  he  put  the  question  without  weakness. 

David  gave  him  a  look  of  definite  approbation. 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  his  frank  admission,  "  whether 
I  could  get  bail  for  you  or  not.  In  the  absence  of  special 

159 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

reasons,  persons  accused  of  murder  are  not  admitted  to 
bail,  in  any  amount — no  matter  how  large.  But  I  don't 
intend  to  try.  I've  found  out  what  you  said  that  day  at 
Eastern  Hall.  You  went  pretty  far !  I  know  you  didn't 
mean  to.  It's  a  weakness  we  talkers  have." 

For  the  first  time,  David  smiled  good-humoredly  at 
Ginzberg,  before  he  went  on :  "  Well,  there's  no  use  in 
bothering  about  that  now,  but  technically,  I'm  afraid  you 
couldn't  put  up  a  very  strong  defence.  We've  got  to 
arouse  a  public  sentiment.  I  am  going  to  exhibit  you  as 
a  noble  martyr,  fearlessly  facing  death  for  the  cause  of 
suffering  labor.  That's  why  I've  been  yelping  at  you  to 
keep  a  stiff  lip.  A  martyr  must  never  appear  to  be 
frightened — no  matter  what  happens.  Look  heroic !  Hold 
your  tongue!  Let  me  do  the  talking  for  you,  and  I'll 
make  a  national  figure  of  you;  people  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other  will  read  about  you  and  the 
brave  fight  you're  making.  In  the  end,  when  the  case 
comes  to  trial,  no  Juryman  will  be  able  to  think  about 
you  without  getting  a  lump  in  his  throat.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  you  show  the  white  feather,  you're  done  for. 
You'll  just  be  a  pitiful,  stupid  baby.  Your  own  men  will 
go  back  to  their  jobs  and  make  you  the  scapegoat.  The 
best  you  can  hope  for  is  a  few  years  less  in  the  Peni 
tentiary.  You  won't  have  a  friend  left  in  the  world." 

David  faced  him  squarely  across  the  table,  looking 
searchingly  into  his  eyes. 

"  You're  all  right  now ! "  he  announced,  in  a  tone  of 
absolute  finality, "  you've  had  your  little  spasm,  and  you're 
through  with  it.  I'm  glad  MacBurney  put  off  seeing  you. 
I  can  fill  the  newspapers  with  tales  of  your  courage  to 
morrow,  can't  I  ?  You're  sure  of  yourself  ?  " 

Something  of  David's  resolution  had  infected  the  labor 

160 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

leader ;  besides,  the  thought  of  the  coming  flood  of  news 
paper  publicity  was  not  without  the  appeal  to  Ginzberg's 
vanity  which  the  lawyer  had  anticipated. 

"  I'll  play  your  game,"  he  answered.  "  You're  sure 
you'll  pull  me  through,  though,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  David  assured  him,  curtly,  "  if  you  do  as  I  tell 
you.  Now,  remember!  no  interviews  of  any  kind  with 
anybody.  Tell  reporters  you  will  give  out  signed  state 
ments.  Tell  the  Detectives,  David  Gordon  said  he'd  have 
them  before  the  Police  Board  if  they  tried  to  make  you 
disobey  his  orders.  They'll  know  I  mean  what  I  say, 
and  besides,  I'll  tell  them  the  same  thing  myself.  Here's 
some  money !  Send  out  for  books  and  newspapers ;  read ; 
amuse  yourself  as  best  you  can,  and  don't  talk,  don't  get 
intimate  with  other  prisoners  and  above  all, — don't  whine ! 
If  you  see  Clutsky  in  Jail,  avoid  him  as  if  he  had  small 
pox!  We  can't  afford  to  burden  ourselves  wilh  him! 
When  you  think  you  can  see  your  wife  without  losing 
your  nerve,  I'll  send  her  to  you.  Don't  bother  about  her, 
or  the  Union,  or  anything  else,  but  keep  quiet,  let  me  talk 
for  you,  and  enjoy  the  sensations  of  being  a  hero ! " 

"  I'll  try,"  Ginzberg  promised. 

"  You  can  do  it,"  David  said  encouragingly,  "  besides, 
there's  money  in  it  for  you — lots  of  money.  When  you 
get  out,  you  can  write  a  book  about  it,  and  give  lectures, 
and  people  will  tumble  over  each  other  to  pay  you.  If 
you  can't  write  the  stuff  yourself,  you  can  hire  someone 
at  eight  dollars  a  week." 

Ginzberg's  pleasure  in  this  distant  smile  of  fortune 
was  somewhat  tempered  by  David's  unfeeling  aspersions 
on  his  capacity  for  authorship;  but,  without  giving  him 
time  for  remonstrance,  the  lawyer,  drawing  a  number  of 
documents  from  his  bag,  continued : 

11  161 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Here  are  three  statements — one  is  to  the  Public 
generally,  setting  forth  your  outrageous  treatment;  the 
second  is  to  the  Garment  Workers,  exhorting  them  to  be 
firm,  no  matter  what  your  cruel  fate  may  be ;  the  third  is 
to  the  Jews  of  Baltimore,  asking  as  one  Jew  to  the  others 
what  their  religion  means.  All  three  will  be  on  the  front 
page  of  the  morning  newspapers.  They'll  make  a  mag 
nificent  splash,  and  the  papers  won't  feel  any  worse 
toward  you,  when  they  think  of  the  receipted  advertising 
bills.  Sign  them !  " 

Ginzberg  took  David's  fountain  pen,  and  signed  obe 
diently. 

"  You  may  read  them  if  you  want,"  Gordon  said  in 
dulgently,  "  they're  good  stuff." 

The  imprisoned  Garment  Worker  took  advantage  of 
the  lawyer's  permission.  He  would  not  have  worded  any 
of  the  statements  in  the  form  in  which  he  found  them. 
His  own  style  was  somewhat  more  florid.  Still,  he  had 
enough  native  shrewdness  to  realize  the  value  of  his 
lawyer's  efforts,  and  began  to  congratulate  himself  on  the 
lucky  chance  which  had  sent  him  this  adroit  champion. 
The  statements  had  been  rather  hastily  dictated  by 
Gordon,  but  all  of  his  work  was  done  at  high  speed,  and 
he  did  not  feel  he  could  have  improved  much  on  his  first 
drafts  by  labored  revisions.  He  knew  his  phrased  bore  no 
resemblance  to  those  of  the  man  who  was  to  sign  them, 
but  he  knew  also  how  few  people  in  the  entire  City  would 
be  able  to  recognize  either  Ginzberg's  characteristic  style, 
or  his  own. 

The  statement  to  Ginzberg's  co-religionists  had  re 
ceived  the  largest  amount  of  David's  attention.  The  paper 
read: 

162 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

"  To  the  Jews  of  Baltimore : 

I  am  a  Jew,  like  yourselves — at  least,  like  some  of  you,  for 
I  have  always  been  poor,  and  always  worked  for  my  bread,  with 
my  hands.  It  was  for  Jews  that  I  worked.  They  were  rich,  and  I 
was -poor,  but  I  had  read  in  the  Law  of  Moses  that  they  were  my 
brothers.  I  believed  it.  Tonight  I  am  sitting  alone  in  a  cell,  and 
I  am  not  so  sure.  I  have  broken  no  law,  either  of  God  or  man. 
I  have  striven  to  make  things  easier  for  my  comrades ;  I  have 
never  injured  anyone,  yet  it  is  Jews  who  have  locked  this  iron 
door  upon  me,  and  Jews  whose  wealth  and  talents  are  devoted  to 
Sending  me  to  my  death,  or  still  worse,  to  a  life  behind  prison 
walls,  separated  forever  from  my  wife  and  helpless  little  children. 

"  They  do  this  thing  because  I  had  the  courage  to  tell  them 
they  were  not  dealing  justly  with  the  men  and  women  who  labored 
unceasingly,  in  poverty  and  misery,  so  that  they,  their  fellow- 
Jews,  might  be  gorged  with  gold.  I  said  no  more  than  every 
teacher  of  such  subjects,  in  every  college,  knows  to  be  true.  I 
said  no  more  than  each  of  you  knows,  in  his  heart,  to  be  true ; 
if  you  doubt  one  word  of  it,  leave  your  own  comfortable  homes 
and  come  down  to  the  hovels,  where  we  drag  out  our  miserable 
lives,  and  then  read  my  words  again. 

"  But  we  asked  no  help  at  your  hands  to  cure  these  cruel 
conditions.  It  was  our  own  task.  Without  education,  without 
money,  without  anything  but  the  knowledge  that  we  fought 
for  Justice — we  struggled  for  the  coming  of  a  happier  day.  We 
would  have  gained  our  end.  I  believe — whether  I  shall  live  to 
see  it  or  not — we  shall  still  gain  it.  But,  meanwhile,  our 
oppressors — Jews,  like  ourselves — sought  for  a  weapon  to  punish 
the  man  whom  they  had  not  been  able  to  silence.  They  found  it 
in  the  desperate  deed  of  a  poor  wretch,  crazed  by  his  wrongs. 
They,  who  created  the  conditions  which  inflamed  his  disordered 
mind,  are  the  true  perpetrators  of  his  deplorable  crime — not  I, 
who  merely  pointed  to  the  work  of  their  hands. 

"  I  wish  I  could  bring  Samuel  Rosen  back  again  to  life. 
He  was  a  fellow-worker,  however  mistaken,  and  a  fellow-Jew. 
But  the  owners  of  the  Pioneer  factory  shook  with  devilish  glee 
when  he  died.  It  gave  them  a  chance  to  kill  another  man — another 
Jew — whose  presence  on  earth  was  inconvenient.  It  did  not  matter 
whether  the  man  whose  blood  they  sought  was  innocent  as  his  own 

163 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

children,  or  guilty  as  themselves.  It  did  not  matter  what  he  had 
taught.  They  will  find  ways — never  fear !  to  twist  and  distort  his 
plain  words.  He  must  be  stoned  like  the  prophets  of  old.  who 
dared  to  tell  the  truth  to  their  wicked  kings ! 

"I  am  not  concerned  about  my  own  fate.  No  matter  what 
happens  to  me,  I  shall  find  strength  to  bear  it.  But  there  is  one 
thing  I  do  want,  here  in  my  prison,  to  learn.  I  want  to  know 
what  your  religion  means  to  you!  There  isn't  room  in  the 
same  Judaism  for  men  like  my  oppressors  and  myself.  I  am 
told  the  President  of  the  Pioneer  Company  is  also  the  President 
of  one  of  your  most  important  synagogues.  I  want  to  know  if 
there  is  still  space  under  the  dome  of  that  Temple  for  the  men 
who  think  it  no  crime  to  kill  another,  unless  he  will  buy  his 
life  at  the  price  of  slavish  Silence.  I  want  to  know  if  you  are 
just  mumbling  words  when  you  talk  of  Loving  your  neighbor 
as  yourself.  I  want  to  know  if  your  Religion  is  only  a  theatri 
cal  sham.  If  it  is,  I  and  all  who  think  as  I  do,  want  to  cut 
ourselves  loose  from  you  as  though  you  were  polluted !  If  it  isn't, 
if  your  creed  means  anything,  if  the  God  you  worship  isn't 
a  hollow  mockery,  you  have  got  to  take  sides  against  the  men  who 
claim  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  your  Holy  Faith,  while  they  scheme 
and  plot  to  revive  for  the  mere  lust  of  money-making,  the  perse 
cutions  their  own  ancestors  endured  because,  like  me,  they  would 
not  cease  from  proclaiming  the  truth." 

As  Ginzberg  finished  reading  the  paper,  a  film  of 
moisture  spread  over  his  eyes — so  deeply  was  his  self-pity 
moved  by  the  recital  of  his  woes,  and  the  nobility  of  his 
cause.  The  author  smiled  cynically,  as  he  estimated 
the  effect  of  his.  passionate  statement  on  the  man  who 
signed  it. 

"  Cut  it  out  of  the  newspaper,"  was  his  half -mocking 
command,  "  and  read  it  now  and  then.  It  makes  you 
wear  just  the  face  you  need; — sort  of  combination  of 
Holy  Martyr  and  gallant  Captain  of  the  sinking  ship ! 
Well,  that's  about  all!  I  must  see  your  wife  and  the 
newspaper  men  before  I  go  home,  so  I'd  better  be  off." 

164 


HOW  A  POPULAR  HERO  IS  MADE 

He  rose  and  bundled  his  papers  together  and  pre 
pared  to  knock  at  the  door  for  the  turnkey  who  was  to 
liberate  David  and  conduct  Ginzberg  back  to  his  cell. 

"  One  thing  more,  M'r.  Gordon,"  the  garment  worker 
said  with  some  hesitation,  "  I  know  you  don't  often  take 
criminal  cases  and  that  your  fees  are  always  big,  I 
haven't  any  money,  and  you  know  how  the  Union's  fixed, 
— what  about  your  pay,  and  all  these  advertising  bills  ? " 

David  shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently. 

"  Don't  you  bother,"  he  replied  brusquely,  "  I'm  not 
working  for  nothing.  A  very  philanthropic  gentleman," 
an  elusive  smile  played  about  his  lips  for  a  second,  "  who 
desires  to  remain  unknown,  has  become  interested  in  your 
case.  He's  determined  you  shan't  suffer,  even  if  you  are 
poor.  He's  paying  me  a  good  stiff  fee,  and  isn't  stinting 
me  about  expenses.  See  that  you  hold  your  tongue  about 
this,  too." 

Ginzberg  looked  at  the  lawyer  with  a  very  perceptible 
uneasiness. 

"  Well ! "  David  demanded  sharply,  "  what  do  you 
care?  Any  time  my  services  don't  please  you,  you  have 
only  to  say  so.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  client  of  mine 
who  didn't  get  a  little  more  than  a  square  deal  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Mr.  Gordon,"  Ginzberg  protested,  in  almost 
abject  fear  of  having  given  offense. 

"  Then  you  needn't  be  afraid  I'll  begin  with  you !  " 
David  snapped  out,  and  turning,  beat  impatiently  upon 
the  heavy  door. 


165 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

DAVID  GORDON  certainly  knew  his  public.  His  adver 
tisements  did  not  fail  to  cause  the  "  magnificent  splash  " 
he  had  predicted.  All  next  day  the  town  echoed  his 
phrases,  and  Israel  Ginzberg,  before  noon,  became  the 
most-discussed  citizen  of  Baltimore.  He  was  the  victim 
of  a  detestable  plot,  or  a  shrewd,  unscrupulous  agitator — 
according  to  the  sentimentality,  youth,  politics  and  bank 
account  of  each  one  of  his  half  million  judges.  Since 
more  citizens  of  Baltimore  are  distressed  because  of  an 
occasional  or  chronic  scarcity  of  funds,  than  those  who 
suffer  because  of  an  excess  in  that  respect,  and  because 
even  among  the  latter  there  are  many  who  have  purchased 
with  their  wealth  and  leisure  a  well-stocked  equipment 
of  sensibilities  and  genteel  radicalism,  the  tide  of  Public 
Opinion  was  strongly  in  favor  of  the  imprisoned  labor 
leader. 

The  newspapers,  which  up  to  this  time  had  treated 
the  strike  and  everything  pertaining  to  it,  with  languid 
disdain,  now  swerved  to  the  other  extreme, — not,  to  do 
them  justice,  because  of  their  receipted  advertising  bills, 
as  David  had  cynically  predicted,  but  because  such  a  bitter 
quarrel,  with  the  promised  excitement  of  a  dramatic  crim 
inal  trial  as  a  climax,  was  "  news,"  and  good  circulation- 
feeding  news,  at  that.  A  steady  stream  of  pathetic  little 
memoirs  of  the  chaste  family  life  and  communal  activities 
of  Mr.  Ginzberg,  trickled  from  Mr.  Gordon's  office  into 
the  reading  columns  of  that  unshackled  press  which  gives 
the  public  exactly  what  it  wants. 

168 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

There  was  much  surprise  expressed  at  David  Gor 
don's  connection  with  the  case.  The  employment  on 
Ginzberg's  behalf  of  one  of  the  City's  foremost  lawyers, 
whose  clientele  for  a  number  of  years  had  included  some 
of  the  wealthiest  and  most  influential  members  of  Balti- 
'more's  financial  group,  occasioned  curious  surmises — 
'many  of  them  decidedly  unfavorable.  David  met  this 
situation  with  another  statement,  repeating  to  the  Public 
substantially  what  he  had  told  Ginzberg  himself.  An 
extremely  wealthy  and  public-spirited  gentleman,  be 
lieving  a  cruel  judicial  wrong  was  about  to  be  perpetrated, 
had  retained  his  services  to  make  sure  the  legal  rights 
of  the  accused  were  fully  safe-guarded.  For  his  own 
part,  David  Gordon  added,  he  had  accepted  eagerly  the 
opportunity  thus  offered  to  defend  the  cause  of  an  inno 
cent  and  injured  co-religionist  and  former  neighbor, — 
regretting  only  his  financial  inability  to  devote  his  time 
and  whatever  skill  he  might  possess,  to  gratuitous  service. 

This  statement  proved  extremely  effective.  If  David 
had  said  he  was  serving  without  any  compensation,  the 
assertion  would  have  been  greeted  everywhere  with  in 
credulous  smiles,  such  being  the  guileless  nature  of  Man. 
If  David  Gordon  had  been  poor  and  unknown,  he  might 
reasonably  have  been  expected  to  break  a  lance  on  behalf 
of  wounded  and  oppressed  Truth.  He  would  then  have 
been  credited  with  a  praiseworthy  and  enterprising  thirst 
for  legitimate  advertising;  but  all  of  us  value  Success 
much  too  highly  to  believe  it  capable  of  stooping  to  the 
depths  of  such  a  vulgar,  irrational  emotion  as  sentimental 
unselfishness.  Therefore,  when  David  had  calmly  an- 

167 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

nounced  the  presence  of  a  generous  fee  jingling  in  his 
pocket,  the  public's  respect  for  him,  and  incidentally  for 
the  man  he  had  not  neglected  to  link  with  himself  as  a 
"  co-religionist  and  former  neighbor,"  increased  in  direct 
proportion  to  the  supposed  size  of  his  "  retainer." 

While  all  the  City  was  buzzing  with  confused  as 
sertions  and  denials  regarding  the  merits  of  the  strike 
and  of  this  prosecution,  the  Pioneer  directors,  beginning 
in  repent,  perhaps,  of  the  hornets'  nests  they  had  un 
wittingly  stirred  up,  but  deeming  it  impossible  to  retrace 
their  steps,  made  the  further  mistake  of  publishing  re 
joinders  to  the  Ginzberg  advertisements.  They  were, 
like  all  the  Pioneer  statements,  models  of  logic  and  co 
herence.  They  set  forth  the  physical  advantages  of  the 
plant,  the  payment  to  the  employees  of  the  largest  wage 
consistent  with  a  reasonable  profit,  the  prompt  offer  of 
the  Company  to  submit  to  a  partial  arbitration  of  their 
differences,  and  the  arbitrary  refusal  by  the  strikers  of 
this  proposal.  They  quoted  and  emphasized  the  fiery 
and  intemperate  language  used  by  Ginzberg  in  his  speech 
at  Eastern  Hall,  and  insisted  that  after  a  man's  life  had 
been  wantonly  sacrificed,  the  original  merits  of  the  strike 
had  become  a  subordinate  issue,  and  the  prosecution  had 
become  necessary  in  the  interests  of  the  public  safety. 

The  morning  after,  found  the  front  page  of  the  news 
papers  plastered  with  the  reply  David  Gordon  had  de 
lightedly  prepared.  It  eluded  all  the  strong  points  of 
the  Pioneer  Company's  case.  To  prove  the  inadequacy 
of  the  wages  paid,  graphic  little  pen  pictures  of  the 
homes  of  the  employees  were  drawn,  citing  in  each  case, 
the  street  name  and  number  of  some  wretched  dwelling. 
It  argued  from  the  long  number  of  prior  strikes  in  the 

168 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

factory  the  inability  of  the  workers  to  deal  with  their 
employers  unless  they  were  permitted  to  organize.  The 
flat  refusal  of  the  Company  to  include  this  disputed  point 
in  the  proposed  arbitration  was  set  forth  in  full  detail. 
The  statement  openly  accused  the  Pioneer  Company  of 
misquoting  Ginzberg's  speech,  adding  that  the  true  text 
was  withheld  only  to  baffle  the  designs  of  certain  witnesses 
for  the  State,  who  at  the  best,  would  prove  none  too 
scrupulous.  It  next  proceeded  to  quote  from  the  most 
prominent  text  writers  and  teachers  of  economics  nu 
merous  statements  far  more  radical — though  possibly 
more  tactfully  worded — than  those  imputed  to  Ginzberg. 
Lastly,  the  personal  note  was  again  artfully  sounded. 
There  was  a  burst  of  rhetoric,  pitilessly  excoriating  the 
relentless  persecution  of  the  imprisoned  labor  leader  and 
the  despicable  hypocrisy  of  the  factory  owners. 

The  statement  was  a  little  masterpiece  of  special  plead 
ing,  done  into  the  language  of  the  "  man  in  the  street." 
If  it  was  not  perfect  reasoning,  it  was  something  more 
effective.  Even  Mr.  Kaufman's  friends  were  somewhat 
shaken  by  its  merciless  vehemence.  Ginzberg  began  to 
acquire  a  respectable  number  of  partisans,  up-town,  as 
well  as  down-town. 

Among  others  whose  emotions  were  profoundly  stirred 
by  this  bitter  war  of  words,  was  Philip  Graetz.  He 
felt  more  than  ever  the  helplessness  of  his  position, 
doomed  as  he  was  by  the  irony  of  his  training,  and  his 
apparent  leadership  of  his  people,  to  an  indecision  and 
inactivity  against  which  his  very  soul  rebelled.  His 
well-trained  intellect  forced  him  to  note  the  fallacies 
in  Ginzberg's  pleas,  but  his  quick,  generous  sympathies 
were  all  with  the  starved  natures  who  had  dared — with 

169 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

or  without  warrant  of  law — to  snatch  hungrily  at  the 
rich  prizes  of  life  which  had  been  his  own  unquestioned 
inheritance.  He  found  but  little  encouragement  in  this 
attitude  from  Ruth,  who  was  still  the  victim  of  her  new 
found  inability  to  conceal  her  real  sentiments  from  Philip 
— even  to  win  and  hold  his  affections. 

They  pored  over  the  advertisements  together,  and 
when  Philip  gave  vent  to  an  expression  of  heartfelt  pity, 
Ruth  exclaimed  impatiently: 

"  Oh !  of  course,  he's  clever — diabolically  clever !  " 

"  Who — this  poor  Ginzberg  creature  ?  "  Philip  asked 
wonderingly. 

"  No — not  Ginzberg — you  don't  suppose  he  wrote  this 
stuff!  It's  David  Gordon's.  I  can  recognize  him  in 
every  word,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  did  the  actual  writing,"  answered 
Philip,  impatiently.  "  What  difference  does  that  make, 
if  the  ideas  ring  true?" 

"But  they  don't,"  Ruth  retorted  rebelliously,  "at 
least,  not  to  me.  And  it  isn't  because  I  have  any  sym 
pathy  to  waste  on  Clarence  Kaufman,  or  because  I've 
got  some  money  locked  up  in  his  factory.  I  wish  every 
penny  of  it  was  gone,  so  I  wouldn't  feel  responsible.  But 
here's  the  point — and  David  Gordon  is  just  keen  enough 
to  dodge  it — it  doesn't  matter  whether  the  things  this 
Ginzberg  man  said  are  true  or  not,  or  whether  he  and  his 
men  had  a  real  grievance.  If  he  repeated  the  multiplica 
tion  table,  and  knew  when  he  did  it,  he  was  likely  to 
cause  a  riot,  he  should  be  punished.  That's  plain,  ordi 
nary,  common  sense.  If  you  don't  concede  that  much, 
nobody's  life  will  be  safe  in  the  streets." 

Philip  felt  himself  roused  to  a  direct  antagonism, 
170 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

although  he  had  argued  much  along  the  same  lines  in  his 
debates  with  himself. 

"  There's  something  more  important  in  the  world  than 
peace,"  he  declared.  "  A  peace  founded  on  injustice  may 
be  worse  than  riot  and  bloodshed.  I  don't  want  to  justify 
violence,  but  if  you  carry  your  theory  to  its  conclusion, 
no  one  could  ever  protest  against  any  existing  evil — no 
matter  how  outrageous — because  some  irresponsible  per 
son  might  get  drunk  from  the  thought  of  his  wrongs." 

"  You  can't  carry  any  theory  to  an  extreme,"  Ruth 
answered.  "  You  must  use  some  degree  of  judgment — or 
stand  the  consequences." 

"  These  men  are  the  victims  of  the  system  people  like 
ourselves  created,"  he  asserted.  "  How  can  you  hold  them 
to  your  own  sophisticated  standards  ?  It  isn't  fair !  " 

"  My  standards  would  have  saved  Rosen's  life,"  she 
could  not  resist  saying,  even  though  she  knew  she  was 
exasperating  Philip  by  her  words. 

"  But  they've  cost  the  life  of  many  a  laborer's  wife 
and  baby,"  he  rejoined.  "  It  seems  we  are  never  going 
to  help  these  people  to  wholesome  happy  lives.  If  they 
want  such  things  they've  got  to  break  the  rules  we  chain 
them  with." 

Their  repeated  debates  brought  them  no  closer  to 
agreement.  On  the  contrary,  Philip  began  to  distrust 
Ruth's  motives.  Her  thoughts  were  too  cogent,  he  de 
cided,  to  be  her  own.  She  had,  perhaps  unknowingly, 
absorbed  them  from  the  class-conscious  clique  among 
which  she  moved.  The  chasm  between  the  pair  began 
imperceptibly  to  widen. 

A  week  after  the  date  of  Ginzberg's  arrest  a  noon- 

171 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

day  meeting  of  the  directors  of  the  United  Hebrew  Or 
ganization  Society  was  held  in  a  private  room  of  a  club 
house  in  the  heart  of  the  business  section.  It  was  not  an 
infrequent  thing  to  hold  such  meetings  around  the  lunch 
eon  table.  One  could  discuss  comfortably,  over  a  well- 
cooked  meal,  the  problems  of  the  underfed,  and  thus 
combine  duty,  pleasure  and  economy  of  time.  Today, 
however,  the  digestion  of  more  than  one  director  was 
threatened  with  peril,  since  David  Gordon  had  requested 
in  writing,  and  had  been  granted,  the  privilege  of  appear 
ing  before  the  body.  His  coming  boded  no  good.  Sev 
eral  of  the  officers  of  the  Society  had  opposed  receiving 
him,  but  the  majority  had  urged  the  unwisdom  of  play 
ing  directly  into  his  hands,  by  a  refusal  to  learn,  at  least, 
the  nature  of  his  desired  communication. 

The  Board  of  Directors  was  composed  of  some  fifteen 
men, — supposedly  representative  of  the  best  element  of 
the  Jewish  community.  They  were  all  busy  men  who  sin 
cerely  wished  to  devote  some  skill  and  energy  to  alle 
viating  the  condition  of  the  Jewish  poor.  The  main  out 
line  of  their  system  had  been  acquired  from  their  remote 
predecessors.  They  collected  from  the  well-to-do,  the 
largest  sum  which  could  be  wheedled  from  them,  and 
distributed  it  among  such  applicants  for  relief  as  their 
investigators  reported  to  be  worthy.  There  was  never 
quite  enough  for  a  complete  and  adequate  division,  but 
they  did  the  best  they  could.  Meanwhile,  it  troubled 
them  vaguely  to  find  their  work  grew  no  less  onerous 
from  year  to  year,  but  if  any  member  became  too  sadly 
discouraged,  he  quietly  withdrew  and  gave  place  to  some 
younger  and  more  sanguine  opponent  of  Poverty. 

172 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

The  most  recent  recruit  to  this  directorate  was  Philip 
Graetz.  He  had,  so  far,  been  more  of  a  spectator  than 
an  actor  in  the  Board's  deliberations — since  he  had  not 
yet  overcome  a  feeling  of  being  imperfectly  informed  re 
garding  the  problems  to  be  prudently  solved — and  then 
solved  all  over  again  some  months  later.  Most  of -the 
members  were  prosperous  business  and  professional  men. 
Some,  however,  were  considered  promising,  rather  than 
prominent,  in  the  community-life,  and  their  mild  radical 
ism  was  treated  with  a  tolerant  indulgence. 

Into  this  group,  after  routine  business  and  less  monot 
onous  food  had  been  duly  discussed,  stalked  David 
Gordon.  He  was  no  stranger  to  many  of  its  members. 
Some  of  them,  such  as  Philip  and  Arthur  Kahn,  he  had 
met  socially.  He  had  been  counsel  for  several  others,  in 
legal  matters  more  or  less  important.  All  who  knew  him 
had  a  wholesome  appreciation  of  his  dangerous  force, 
and  perhaps  those  who  oftenest  made  use  of  his  talents, 
were  the  ones  who  felt  least  friendly  toward  him. 

The  President,  whose  name  was  Seligman,  and  who 
was  the  sole  proprietor  of  a  large  and  flourishing  depart 
ment  store,  rose  courteously  as  David  entered,  and  mo 
tioned  him  to  be  seated. 

"  May  I  order  lunch  for  you  ?  "  he  asked  hospitably. 

David  declined  both  the  vacant  chair  and  the  proffered 
food. 

"  Thanks !  "  he  answered,  "  I  never  eat  during  busi 
ness  hours.  However,"  he  went  on,  standing  at  the  head 
of  the  table  and  speaking  with  a  grim  smile,  "  your  invi 
tation  is  nevertheless  most  appropriate,  because  I  did 
come  to  ask  you  for  something  to  eat — not  for  myself, 
though !  I  want  it  for  Mrs.  Israel  Ginzberg." 

173 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Nobody  said  anything,  but  the  atmosphere  was  def 
initely  hostile.  David  had  expected  no  other  reception, 
but  he  was  none  the  less  contemptuously  angry  at  their 
instantaneous  reaction  of  antagonism  to  his  words.  They 
all  seemed  to  expect  David  to  say  something  more,  so  he 
continued  without  the  faintest  effort  at  conciliation: 

"  Those  of  you  who  are  superior  to  the  vulgarity  of 
the  newspapers  may  require  some  further  explanation 
as  to  the  lady's  identity.  She  is  the  wife  of  my  most 
spectacular  client,  and  the  mother  of  two  highly  interest 
ing  young  children.  Her  husband,  due  to  the  abundant 
zeal  of  a  friend  of  some  of  you,  is  at  present  enjoying 
the  hospitality  of  the  State.  Our  paternal  government 
thoughtfully  provides  him  with  an  abundance  of  food — 
of  what  quality  I  can't  say — still  the  quantity  is  ample. 
Through  some  oversight,  his  wife  and  children  receive 
none  whatsoever.  Curiously  enough,  their  grief  at  the 
removal  of  the  head  of  the  family  has  not  completely 
deprived  them  of  all  appetite,  as  I  presume  our  some 
what  sentimental  lawmakers  anticipated  would  happen 
in  such  cases.  The  children,  in  particular,  illogically 
enough,  seem  to  desire  food  at  regular  intervals.  It's 
distressing  to  find  such  callousness  among  the  young, 
but  then  they're  uncultured  animals — no  fine  instincts,  at 
all !  I  felt  constrained  to  humor  them,  perhaps  because 
I,  myself,  am  incurably  low  and  common  in  my  tastes.  I 
have  bought  them  meals  for  a  week  now,  but  it  has 
occurred  to  me  to  consider  the  gross  impropriety  in 
volved  in  a  bachelor,  like  myself,  thus  maintaining  the 
wife  and  children  of  another  man.  I  decided  to  seek 
help  among  more  representative  persons  whose  respect 
ability,  unlike  my  own,  was  so  far  above  reproach  as  to 

174 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

make  slander  impossible.  My  first  thoughtless  impulse 
might  have  brought  me  to  accept  alms  for  her  from  some 
non-Jew,  but  then  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  remember 
your  Society.  I  understand  it  exists  solely  to  give  food 
and  shelter  to  anyone  lucky  enough  to  be  of  your  own 
faith,  provided  the  applicant  is  reputable  and  in  actual 
need.  Mrs.  Ginzberg  possesses  all  these  qualities.  You 
only  have  to  see  her  and  hear  her  talk  to  know  she's  a 
Jewess.  She  hasn't  the  price  of  tomorrow's  breakfast, 
and  her  virtue  is  unquestioned,  except  in  so  far  as  it  may 
have  been  tarnished  by  her  acceptance  of  petty  cash  at 
my  hands.  Gentlemen,  opportunity  awaits  you !  " 

David  Gordon,  having  thus  delivered  himself  to  his 
own  satisfaction,  if  to  no  other  person's,  seated  himself 
comfortably.  His  listeners  did  not  share  his  sense  of 
ease.  Some  of  them,  like  Arthur  Kahn,  were  ablaze  with 
suppressed  anger  at  the  lawyer's  insolence;  a  few  were 
incapable  of  complete  comprehension  of  his  sarcasms,  and 
were  stupidly  puzzled,  while  others,  too  astute  to  give 
way  to  indignation  and  too  well  acquainted  with  Gordon's 
reputation  to  suppose  he  would  thus  prejudice  his  own 
plea,  for  the  sake  of  indulging  his  humor,  groped  about 
in  their  minds  for  the  correct  explanation  of  his  conduct. 
Mr.  Seligman  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  stated,  "  we  are  seldom  asked  to 
pass  upon  the  question  of  relief  to  strikers.  It  is  cus 
tomary  for  the  Unions  to  which  such  persons  belong,  to 
supply  their  needs." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  David  replied,  "  I  have  been  told  so,  but 
in  this  case  the  '  local '  which  my  client  attempted  to 
organize,  is  almost  as  poverty-stricken  as  Mrs.  Ginzberg. 
In  case  you  grant  my  first  request  I  may  become  encour- 

175 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

aged  to  apply  to  you  for  relief  on  the  Union's  behalf. 
It  is  also  needy  and  Jewish — at  least  mostly  Jewish,  like 
ourselves.  If  you  don't  consider  it  entirely  worthy,  you 
maintain,  I  believe,  a  department  for  delinquents." 

This  time  Mr.  Seligman  was  seriously  affronted. 

"  I  understood,  Sir,"  he  blurted  out,  trying  desperately 
and  successfully  to  restrain  himself  from  unparliamentary 
conduct,  "  you  came  here  at  your  own  desire,  to  discuss 
a  serious  matter.  Your  manner " 

"  It's  bad,"  David  interrupted  solemnly,  "  I  admit  it. 
I  strive  constantly  to  improve  it,  with  what  poor  success 
you've  noticed.  But  I  mean  to  be  serious.  Israel  Ginz- 
berg  has  resigned  his  position  as  President  of  his  '  local,' 
and  with  it  his  membership,  under  their  peculiar  by-laws, 
also  became  suspended.  When  a  man  at  the  head  of 
an  institution  is  accused  of  crime,  it  is  considered  praise 
worthy  on  his  part  to  step  aside  from  his  post  of  leader 
ship  until  he's  been  exonerated.  An  odd  conventionality, 
perhaps — particularly  among  poor  folk — but  one  much 
in  vogue  among  statesmen,  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  rabbis 
and  priests,  as  Dr.  Graetz,  I  am  sure,  will  cheerfully 
testify.  These  creatures  have  chosen  to  imitate  their 
betters.  Therefore,  Ginzberg's  family  is  not  entitled  to 
relief  from  the  Union." 

"  I  should  call  that  a  quibble,  Mr.  Gordon,  if  you 
won't  take  offense  at  my  words,"  Mr.  Seligman  remarked. 

"  No  offense  in  the  world,  my  dear  sir,"  Gordon 
assured  him.  "  On  the  contrary,  I  think  you're  entirely 
right,  but  under  our  not  infallible  system,  quibbles  occa 
sionally  win  cases.  Then  they  become  principles,  either 
of  law  or  of  conduct.  Now,  I'll  be  frank  enough  to  say 
this  noble  attitude  of  scrupulous  care  for  his  comrades' 

176 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

interests  seems  to  me  a  rather  good  card  for  my  client 
to  play.  Therefore,  it  shall  be  played.  I  don't  often 
inject  my  own  word  into  such  matters,  but  if  it  helps  you 
in  your  decision,  I'll  tell  you  this :  The  Union  Treasury 
is  in  sore  straits.  I  shall  not  allow  Ginzberg  to  be  a 
drain  on  it;  even  if  they  choose  to  vote  him  funds  to 
which  he  has  no  legal  claim,  the  Ginzberg  family  will  not 
get  one  cent  from  that  source,  even  if  it  starves.  So 
there's  your  problem.  You  can't  evade  it  by  any  hopes 
based  on  the  Union." 

At  this  point,  Arthur  Kahn  turned  to  the  lawyer  and 
began  to  speak  in  his  characteristically  deliberate  manner, 
carefully  selecting  each  word,  and  perfectly  enunciating 
each  syllable. 

"  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  demanded,  "  I  understand  from 
the  newspaper  statement  bearing  your  signature  that  you 
are  being  adequately  compensated  for  defending  Ginz 
berg?" 

"  Your  recollection  is  accurate,  Mr.  Kahn,"  David 
replied,  "  it  is  not  given  to  all  of  us  to  be  philanthropists." 

"  And  the  newspaper  advertisements,"  Kahn  con 
tinued,  "  are  not,  I  presume,  a  voluntary  offering  on  the 
part  of  the  managing  editors  ?  " 

"  Once  more,  Mr.  Kahn,"  David  said  suavely,  "  the 
accuracy  of  your  perception  does  you  credit.  In  the 
matter  of  space  rates,  if  no  where  else,  the  Pioneer 
Company  and  Israel  Ginzberg  were  created  free  and 
equal." 

"  Well  then,"  Kahn  persisted,  pausing  to  give  his 
argument  additional  force,  "  why  doesn't  it  occur  to 
you  to  curtail  a  percentage  of  these  enormous  legal  and 
advertising  bills  and  devote  the  proceeds  to  feeding  the 
wife  and  children  of  this  prisoner?" 

12  177 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

David  turned  full  around  in  his  chair,  the  better  to 
bestow  his  peculiar  smile  on  the  questioner. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  he  replied,  "  you  seem  to  forget  one 
important  factor.  Everyone  does  not  share  your  utter  in 
difference  to  my  unfortunate  client's  fate.  These  ex 
penses  are  incurred  to  save  him  from  hanging,  or  a  long 
term  in  the  Penitentiary.  You  must  suppose  Mrs.  Ginz- 
berg  is  a  cannibal  and  wishes  to  dine  upon  her  husband's 
flesh!" 

Arthur  Kahn  was  stung  to  inquire  angrily : 

"  Since  when,  under  our  code  of  laws  have  innocent 
men  been  forced  to  try  their  cases  in  the  newspapers  ?  " 

"  I  should  say,"  was  David's  bland  retort,  "  it  be 
came  necessary  immediately  after  private  corporations 
learned  to  punish  personal  grievances  in  the  Criminal 
Court.  If  you  want  the  exact  date,  it  coincides  with 
Mr.  Clarence  Kaufman's  election  to  the  Presidency  of  the 
Pioneer  Company." 

"  Gentlemen,"  Mr.  Seligman  interposed,  tapping  on 
the  table,  "  all  this  talk  is  leading  us  nowhere " 

"  One  minute,  Mr.  President,"  Arthur  Kahn  called 
out.  "  I'd  like  to  ask  one  more  question.  Would  it  be 
an  impertinence,  Mr.  Gordon,  if  we  inquired  of  you  the 
name  of  the  gentleman  who  is  defraying  these  expenses  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  so  gross  an  impertinence,  Mr.  Kahn," 
David  answered,  "  as  to  be  impossible  from  any  such 
scrupulous  gentlemen  as  yourselves." 

"  But,"  struck  in  somewhat  timidly  a  fat,  jolly-looking 
young  architect  named  Straus,  "  if  you  find  it  impos 
sible  to  be  frank  with  us,  how  can  you  expect  us  to  grant 
your  request,  and  vote  relief  to  this  woman  ?  " 

This  question  seemed  to  voice  the  general  sense  of 

178 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

the  Board,  and  David  turned  upon  them,  this  time,  with 
entire  seriousness. 

"  I'm  going  to  be  frank  with  you, — brutally  frank," 
he  said.  "  You  gentlemen  are  business  men,  and  good 
ones  at  that.  Let  us  save  time  by  assuming  that  we  all 
possess  some  brains.  Then  you  must  have  guessed  from 
what  Mr.  Seligman  would  term  my  unfortunate  manner — 
and  quite  properly,  too, — my  utter  indifference  regarding 
your  decision  in  this  matter.  I'm  not  making  any  re 
quest,  Mr.  Straus.  I'm  giving  your  Society  an  oppor 
tunity  to  carry  out  the  objects  for  which  it  was  supposed 
to  be  incorporated.  I  want  to  put  you  on  record  one  way 
or  the  other.  However  you  vote,  you'll  serve  my 
purpose." 

"  I  presume  you  mean,"  another  member  ventured, 
"  we  must  choose  between  making  ourselves  obnoxious 
to  our  largest  contributors  or  to  your  newspaper  audi 
ence." 

David  Gordon  smiled  again. 

"  That's  the  business  man's  translation,"  he  conceded. 
"  Dr.  Graetz  would  have  said,  I  imagine,  your  choice  is 
between  your  duty  and  your  comfort." 

"  Not  so  fast,  Mr.  Gordon,"  the  President  rejoined, 
"  we  can't  assume  it's  a  duty  to  help  this  woman.  Her 
husband  is  accused  of  inciting  murder." 

"  I  pledge  you  my  word  the  children  were  not  accom 
plices  ;"  David  retorted,  "  the  youngest  can't  talk." 

"  And,"  went  on  Mr.  Seligman,  "  you  could  get  funds 
elsewhere  if  you  chose,  while  we  often  have  no  money  to 
spare  for  the  worthiest  applicants." 

"  Indeed,  I  can  get  the  money  elsewhere,"  was  David's 
cheerful  comment.  "  This  interview  is  a  prelude  to  get- 

179 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ting  it  by  popular  subscription,  solicited  from  the  general 
public.  I  don't  want  you  to  be  able  to  deny  I  gave  my 
own  co-religionists  the  preference.  Your  reasons  for 
refusing  to  help  this  family,  while  interesting  and  per 
haps  perfectly  convincing  to  reasonable  men  like  your 
selves,  will  look  to  the  vulgar,  unthinking  multitude 
as  mere  excuses  put  forth  by  satellites  of  Clarence 
Kaufman." 

Everyone  kept  silence  for  a  minute.  The  Board  was 
in  a  delicate  position  and  relished  neither  its  dilemma  nor 
the  cold-blooded  attitude  of  the  man  who  was  calmly 
proceeding  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

Mr.  Straus  suddenly  rose  from  his  seat  and  faced 
Gordon  almost  pleadingly. 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  urged,  "  you've  got  us 
into  an  uncomfortable  corner — there's  no  denying  it; 
but  is  it  worth 'while  ?  You're  a  successful  man,  of  course, 
but  you're  still  young,  and  you  expect  to  keep  on  living  and 
doing  your  work  in  this  town  for  many  years.  Is  it 
worth  while  making  all  of  us  your  enemies?" 

David's  eyes  contracted  into  two  slits  and  his  jaw 
became  squared,  but  his  voice  was  as  suave  as  ever. 

"  I  shall  expect  more  chanty  than  that  at  your  hands ; 
but  even  if  you  disappoint  me  I  must  serve  my  own  client. 
That's  a  lawyer's  obligation,  no  matter  how  many  friends 
it  costs  him.  Besides,  since  we're  being  frank,  let  me 
tell  you  this :  I'll  get  a  lot  more  business  from  you  men 
now  sitting  around  this  table,  if  you  find  I  can  do  what 
I  set  out  to  do,  than  you'd  ever  give  me  if  I  gfood- 
humoredly  let  you  twist  me  around  your  fingers.  When 
you  hire  a  lawyer,  you're  looking  for  a  man  who  gets 
what  he's  paid  to  get,  not  one  whose  manners  are  charm- 

180 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

ing.  Now,  I'm  going  to  get  Israel  Ginzberg  out  of  Jail. 
If  I  had  to  set  the  City  on  fire  to  do  it,  I'd  trouble  you, 
Mr.  Straus,  for  the  match ! " 

"  But  what  good  will  it  do  your  client  ?  "  Mr.  Selig- 
man  demanded.  "  It  seems  to  me  you're  only  hurting  us, 
\vithout  helping  him.  If  this  woman  really  needs  help, 
you  can  get  money  for  this  family  in  a  dozen  ways.  If 
you'll  treat  it  as  a  confidential  matter,  I  will,  individually, 
give  you  all  the  money  you  want  for  her,  right  now." 

David  shook  his  head. 

"  That's  decent  of  you,  in  a  way,"  he  said,  "  although 
it  isn't  exactly  brave.  Anyhow,  you  may  trust  me  not  to 
repeat  it ;  but  it  doesn't  serve  my  turn.  As  a  representa 
tive  Board,  you  have  got  to  decide  whether  you're  trustees 
for  the  hungry  Jewish  women  and  children  of  Baltimore, 
or  merely  an  employers'  association  for  keeping  mendi 
cants  from  troubling  you  on  the  streets.  The  public, — 
Jew  and  Gentile — and  the  newspapers,  particularly,  want 
to  know ! " 

"  Won't  you  tell  us,"  Arthur  Kahn  asked,  "  why  you 
want  to  stir  up  gratuitous  trouble?  That  seems  to  be 
your  object." 

"  Gladly,"  was  the  lawyer's  rejoinder,  "  you  can  take 
my  answer  back  to  Mr.  Kaufman  himself,  if  you  desire. 
I'm  going  to  split  this  town — and  particularly  the  Jewish 
community — wide  open.  I'm  going  to  give  wounds  that 
will  leave  scars.  Up  to  this  time,  these  petty  labor  trou 
bles  have  meant  agony  for  the  strikers  and  their  families, 
and  a  mere  topic  of  conversation  for  you  intelligent  folk 
uptown.  This  time  there  shall  be  no  one — man  or  woman 
— who  shall  escape  a  fair  share  of  the  pain.  I  mean  to 
make  such  fights  so  miserably  uncomfortable  that  you 

181 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

won't  let  your  Kaufmans  go  into  them  in  this  care- free, 
swash-buckler  fashion.  I  mean  to  placard  your  cruelties 
and  your  weaknesses  on  the  walls  for  every  street  rag 
amuffin  to  see  and  jeer  at.  I  mean  to  let  everyone  who 
can  read  know  exactly  what  your  virtue  and  your  charity 
are  worth ! " 

"  You're  a  Jew,  Mr.  Gordon,"  Philip  Graetz  said, 
for  the  first  time  breaking  silence,  "  I  believe  you  are 
prouder  than  many  others  of  your  essential  Jewishness. 
Don't  you  care  whether  you  discredit  our  Race  and  our 
Religion  before  all  the  world?  Don't  think,"  he  added, 
"  I  am  out  of  sympathy  with  your  client  and  his  family, 
but  we  Jews  ought  to  settle  these  things  among  ourselves ; 
we  ought  not  to  furnish  an  additional  pretext  to  the 
Christian  for  sneering  at  the  Jew,  and  discriminating 
against  him.  It  isn't  as  though  there  were  no  such  unhappy 
quarrels  among  non-Jews,  but  we  are  forced  to  be  more 
careful  than  the  Christians.  We  ought  to  settle  these 
things  among  ourselves !  " 

"Very  true,  Dr.  Graetz,"  David  agreed,  imperturb- 
ably,  "  but  you  didn't  settle  them.  Mr.  Kaufman  chose  to 
drag  this  quarrel  among  Jews  into  a  Christian  court.  We 
don't  propose  to  let  you  drown  Anti-Semitism  in  Ginz- 
berg's  blood." 

"  So  whatever  we  decide,  you  mean  to  report  to  the 
newspapers  ?  "  the  President  inquired. 

"  Just  so !  "  said  David,  "  together  with  such  personal 
comment  as  seems  to  me  proper.  If  you  care  to  vote  this 
relief,  I  shall  say  the  best  representatives  of  Baltimore 
Jewry  have  indignantly  repudiated  Kaufman  and  his 
methods !  If  you  refuse,  the  line  is  sharply  drawn,  among 
the  Jews,  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  native-born 

182 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

and  the  immigrant,  the  capitalists  and  their  hangers-on, 
and  the  workers.  We  shall  carry  the  case  to  the  whole 
community." 

Seligman  looked  significantly  from  face  to  face, 
around  the  table. 

"  The  newspapers,"  he  murmured  meaningly,  "  may 
be  persuaded  against  such  a  campaign. 

"  Never  believe  it !  "  Gordon  smiled.  "  I  realize  what 
large  advertisers  you  gentlemen  are,  but  a  newspaper  is 
a  paradox.  It  must  print  the  things  the  advertiser  hates, 
in  order  to  keep  the  circulation  the  advertiser  demands." 

"  It's  war,  then,  you  propose,"  Arthur  Kahn  an 
nounced.  "  There's  only  one  answer  to  be  made  to  a 
declaration  of  War!  " 

"  You're  wrong,  Mr.  Kahn,"  David  answered.  "  I 
come  here  telling  you  of  a  war,  actually  in  progress.  You 
have  your  choice  as  to  which  banner  you  will  follow. 
There  is  only  one  path  you  can't  choose.  That's  neu 
trality." 

"  And  that,"  Straus  remarked,  "  is  just  the  road  we'd 
like  to  explore." 

Gordon  rose. 

"  I  presume  you  gentlemen  would  prefer  to  deliberate, 
relieved  of  the  incumbrance  of  my  presence." 

"  Must  you  have  a  decision  today  ?  "  Seligman  sug 
gested.  "  This  is  an  important  problem  you've  given  us." 

"  Today,"  David  repeated  relentlessly.  "  I  have  an 
appointment  this  afternoon  with  the  newspaper  men.  I 
shall  tell  them  whether  you  have  granted,  refused  or 
postponed  the  question  of  relief.  You'll  find  it  no  easier 
to  make  up  your  minds  tomorrow." 

"  Mr.  Gordon,"  Seligman  said,  "  I  think  you  have 
183 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

treated  us  with  absolutely  no  consideration  whatever, 
but  we  know  your  personal  word  is  good.  For  my  part, 
you  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  remain  and  listen  to  our  dis 
cussion,  provided  you  will  consider  our  individual  opin 
ions  as  matters  of  confidence." 

David  bowed. 

"  I  appreciate  your  courtesy,  Sir,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
should  certainly  not  abuse  it.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  it 
would  be  wiser  for  me  to  withdraw.  Among  a  thousand 
other  infirmities,  I  find  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  be  silent 
while  other  men  are  talking.  I'm  sure  you'll  pardon  me. 
I  will  await  your  message  in  the  ante-room." 

"  You're  sure,"  Seligman  called  as  David  stood  with 
his  hand  on  the  door  knob,  "  you  won't  accept  my  pro 
posal  of  a  private  contribution — a  liberal  one,  mind  you — 
your  own  figure,  in  fact." 

David  smiled  again  as  he  shook  his  head  decidedly, 
and  left  the  room. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  President,  "whatever 
we  do,  we're  in  for  a  bad  time !  What's  your  pleasure  ?  " 

"If  we  yield,  we  shall  cut  the  Society's  income  in 
half,"  the  Treasurer  remarked  sententiously. 

"If  you  don't  yield,  your  influence  among  the  people 
you  want  to  help  will  be  cut  to  zero,"  one  of  the  younger 
and  more  radical  members  replied. 

"  We  ought  to  do  what  is  right,  irrespective  of  the 
consequences,"  someone  said,  as  though  half  ashamed  of 
his  courage. 

"Well  then,"  Kahn  said,  "it's  right  to  refuse  the 
application.  The  man's  a  dangerous  law-breaker.  The 
woman's  plea  isn't  made  in  good  faith.  Gordon  prac 
tically  admitted  it.  She  doesn't  need  our  money.  He 

184 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  CHARITY 

wants  to  make  trouble.  No  decent  man  likes  to  be  black 
mailed.  I,  myself,  am  ready  to  vote  against  relief  and  to 
spend,  out  of  my  own  pocket,  whatever  sums  may  be 
necessary  to  point  out  to  the  community  the  motives 
behind  this  request." 

"  I  can't  agree  with  Mr.  Kahn,"  said  another  member. 
"If  we  had  an  application  from  a  stranger,  supposedly 
starving,  we'd  grant  emergency  relief,  and  set  a  paid 
investigator  to  work  to  discover  if  help  were  actually 
needed.  It's  not  our  business  to  take  sides  in  this  strike 
— no  matter  where  our  money  comes  from.  I  vote  we 
grant  emergency  relief,  and  issue  a  statement  explaining 
our  conduct.  Without  committing  ourselves,  we  shall 
have  taken  this  action  because  we  were  unwilling  to  accept 
the  possible  responsibility  of  this  family  actually  going 
hungry." 

"What  do  you  think,  Dr.  Graetz?"  Mr.  Seligman 
asked  deferentially.  "  That  is,  if  you  care  to  express  an 
opinion." 

All  eyes  were  turned  on  Philip,  who  was  known  to 
everyone  to  be  the  Rabbi  of  Kaufman's  temple.  He  re 
sponded  to  the  test  without  a  sign  of  flinching. 

"  I  want  tremendously  to  bring  about  Peace.  I  think 
this  relief  would  be  extending  an  olive  branch.  I  don't 
think  the  woman's  entitled  to  it  as  a  matter  of  right,  but 
that's  all  the  more  reason  why  we  should  be  generous.  I 
think  we  ought  to  extend  aid,  with  a  full  statement  of  our 
reasons  and  an  offer  to  both  sides  to  use  our  best  offices 
to  settle  the  entire  dispute.  I  should  be  glad  to  approach 
Mr.  Kaufman  with  such  a  proposition." 

Several  members  smiled  sardonically.  Nobody  ranged 
himself  on  the  side  of  the  Rabbi.  A  few  directors  called 

185 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

impatiently  for  the  question.  The  President,  without 
further  remarks,  put  the  motion. 

"  It  is  resolved,"  he  stated,  "  that  relief  be  extended 
until  further  order  of  this  Board,  to  the  wife  and  children 
of  Israel  Ginzberg.  All  in  favor  will  say  '  Aye ! ' ' 

Ten  men  sat  in  silence.  Five  voices  were  heard  to  say 
"  Aye !  "  Four  responses  were  more  or  less  timid,  but 
Philip's  was  firm  and  decided. 

"  That  poor  kid.  He's  going  to  pay  for  this,"  Straus 
whispered  to  his  neighbor. 

"  Not  if  we  hold  our  tongues,  as  we're  supposed  to," 
the  other  answered.  "  Kaufman  will  be  delighted  with 
our  decision." 

"Shall  I  send  for  David  Gordon?"  the  President 
asked — none  too  happy  at  the  prospect  before  them. 

"  One  minute,  please,"  Philip  requested — burning 
with  a  quixotic  desire  to  conceal  none  of  his  convictions. 
"  I  wish,  if  you  will  be  so  obliging,  to  have  the  Secretary 
directed  to  make  a  record  of  my  vote  among  the  minutes. 
I  think,  with  all  due  deference,  we  are  making  an  error, 
widening  the  gulf  between  ourselves  and  our  less  fortu 
nate  brethren, — no  matter  how  mistaken  they  may  be." 

"  Is  such  a  record  necessary,  Dr.  Graetz?  "  Mr.  Selig- 
man  said,  kindly.  "  You  have  urged  your  views  upon  us. 
The  public  will  understand  we  are  not  unanimous.  Those 
who  are  known  to  have  dissented  will  be  under  fire  from 
both  sides." 

"  I  wish  it,"  Philip  insisted  with  finality. 

"  He's  got  his  nerve,"  Straus  whispered. 

"  He's  stark  mad,  you  mean,"  was  his  neighbor's 
amendment. 

"  It  amounts  to  the  same  thing,"  was  Straus'  comment. 

186 


CHAPTER  XIV 
A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

ONE  late  afternoon,  about  a  week  after  the  Directors' 
meeting  of  the  Charity  Society,  anyone  who  had  cared 
to  take  the  trouble  might  have  seen  the  talented  Rabbi  of 
Beth  El  sitting  all  huddled  in  a  disconsolate  heap  on  the 
staircase  leading  from  the  second  to  the  third  floor  of  a 
bare,  uninviting  house  in  the  ugliest  section  of  East 
Baltimore. 

It  was  an  altogether  unsuitable  environment  for  the 
spokesman  of  the  most  fashionable  of  the  City's  Jewish 
Temples,  but  his  resting  place  was  not  more  incongruous 
than  his  attitude  of  utter  and  complete  dejection  and 
discouragement.  Had  he  been  observed  by  any  of  his 
parishioners,  or  by  the  trustees  of  the  Congregations  in 
other  cities  who  had  taken  envious  notice  of  his  talents, 
there  would  have  been  much  outraged  comment  upon  his 
eccentricity.  Nobody,  however,  who  saw  him  seemed  to 
be  much  interested  in  his  presence  there,  and  he,  himself, 
was  for  the  moment,  totally  oblivious  of  what  anyone 
might  think  of  him. 

He  had  found  the  last  week  a  trying  one ;  so  had  many 
of  his  congregation,  particularly  those  whose  interests 
were  in  any  manner  linked  with  the  fortunes  of  the 
Pioneer  Company.  There  had  been, — to  begin  with, — 
the  rabid  attack  made  in  Ginzberg's  name,  upon  the 
Charity  Society.  This  had  hurt  Philip  grievously,  be 
cause  the  organization  had  been  plausibly  made  to  appear 
as  a  mere  agency  for  distributing  the  largesse  of  vulgar 

187 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

industrial  barons  to  a  pliant,  later-day  peasantry,  whose 
alms  were  to  be  withheld  whenever  their  attitude  ceased 
to  be  one  of  servile  cringing.  It  was  further  intimated 
that  a  minority  existed  upon  the  Board  too  intelligent 
to  accept  such  a  theory,  but  too  intelligent,  also,  to  confuse 
the  buttered  with  the  unbuttered  side  of  the  bread  it  fed 
upon.  In  this,  Philip  recognized  a  thrust  at  himself,  and 
he  was  not  allowed  to  doubt  a  similar  insight  on  the  part 
of  many  others.  Evidently,  David  Gordon  had  no  inten 
tion  of  allowing  such  a  trifle  as  personal  friendship  to 
impair  his  plans  for  the  vindication  of  his  client.  The 
lawyer  was  acting  strictly  in  accordance  with  his  fiercely- 
proclaimed  theories  of  advocacy.  The  intention  of  Arthur 
Kahn  to  answer  this  attack  had  been  overruled  by  his 
colleagues  who  had  sanely  counselled  the  inadvisability 
and  futility  of  a  further  war  of  words.  Philip,  who 
had  contemplated  a  separate  reply,  had  also  allowed 
himself  to  be  persuaded  to  an  injured  silence,  but  the 
wound  smarted  all  the  more  because  his  bruised  feelings 
had  found  no  vocal  or  written  outlet. 

Immediately  after  this,  there  followed  a  series  of 
sudden  attacks,  each  calculated  to  add  to  the  distraction 
and  uproar  in  the  Jewish  community.  Upon  the  report  of 
paid  detectives,  who  had  succeeded  under  Gordon's  orders 
in  securing  positions  as  strike-breakers  in  the  Pioneer 
factory,  the  Company  was  indicted,  once  because  of  an 
alleged  infraction  of  the  Child  Labor  Law  in  the  employ 
ment  of  several  girl  operators  under  the  legal  age,  and 
again  because  of  certain  petty  neglects  of  precautions 
against  fire.  To  the  Company's  perfectly  veracious  as 
sertions  that  the  girls,  if  they  were  really  as  young  as 
they  now  claimed  to  be,  had  obtained  work  by  deceiving 

188 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

the  employing  agent,  and  that  the  factory  was  more  care 
fully  guarded  against  conflagration  than  most  others  in 
the  City,  David  Gordon  answered  with  jeers.  The  Pioneer 
Company,  he  retorted,  had  displayed  no  great  apprecia 
tion  of  Ginzberg's  good  intentions.  It  made  a  lot  of 
difference,  he  suggested,  whose  technicality  was  being 
dissected. 

The  public  gave  its  smiling  sympathy  to  the  side  which 
furnished  the  more  diverting  entertainment.  The  Com 
pany,  by  way  of  retaliation,  proceeded  to  cause  the  arrest 
of  a  number  of  pickets  charged  with  acts  of  disorder. 
These  occurrences,  according  to  the  version  of  the  pris 
oners,  had  been  deliberately  provoked  by  the  strike 
breakers.  Most  of  the  alleged  law-breakers  allowed  their 
cases  to  be  heard  by  the  committing  Magistrates  and 
were  punished  by  the  imposition  of  small  fines,  and 
were  promptly  paid.  Three,  however,  were  dismissed, — no 
active  participation  in  any  unlawful  act  upon  their  part 
having  been  disclosed.  Next  day  each  one,  through  David 
Gordon,  filed  a  damage  suit  against  the  Pioneer  Company 
and  its  chief  officers,  for  false  imprisonment  and  malicious 
prosecution,  claiming  huge  damages  for  the  indignity. 
Finally,  a  well-engineered  drive  against  the  Pioneer's 
stock  was  made  in  the  local  market.  The  majority  hold 
ings  of  the  shares  were  in  the  hands  of  Clarence  Kauf 
man,  his  family  and  his  colleagues,  but  there  was  a  fair 
minority  representation  held  by  the  general  public,  and 
quotation  after  quotation  appeared  in  the  market  reports 
at  steadily  decreasing  prices.  Men  who  purported  to 
know,  insisted  upon  the  artificiality  of  this  decline,  but 
others  were  dubious.  They  could  not  be  sure  of  the 
latent  causes  of  this  unfortunate  shrinkage  in  the  value 

189 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  their  investment  and  were  sure,  at  any  rate,  of  the 
financial  strength  of  the  forces  intent  upon  injuring  the 
Company.  Many  of  the  more  timid  threw  their  holdings 
upon  this  falling  market  and  assisted  in  still  further  low 
ering  the  price  of  the  securities.  Those  who  thus  sold 
their  stock  at  a  considerable  loss  were  none  too  silent 
in  their  resentment  of  the  conduct  of  the  managing  officers 
of  the  Corporation.  These  harassed  gentlemen  insisted 
upon  the  injustice  of  such  censure,  proclaiming  loudly  the 
appalling  absence  of  logic  involved.  Still,  calm,  well- 
ordered  reasoning  is  a  virtue  whose  value  is  never  quoted 
in  a  disappointing  stock  market,  and  a  number  of  well- 
advertised  petty  feuds  arose  among  the  men  whose  finan 
cial  habits  had  heretofore  resulted  in  harmonious  applause 
of  one  another's  business  sagacity  and  public  spirit. 

It  was  all  most  distressing.  Not  the  least  of  the  dis 
concerting  results  of  the  ugly  situation  was  the  effect  upon 
the  non-Jewish  community.  Taking  its  cue,  perhaps, 
from  Gordon's  statements,  it  proceeded  to  treat  the  quar 
rel  as  a  civil  war  among  the  "  Hebrews,"  as  it  preferred 
to  call  them,  when  one  of  them  was  present.  In  vain  did 
anonymous  correspondents  fill  the  open  letter  columns  of 
the  newspapers  with  missives  insisting  upon  the  purely 
economic  aspects  of  the  strike,  and  the  enormous  number 
of  similar  disturbances  among  Gentiles.  The  general 
public  could  only  see  rich  Jews  at  war  with  poor  ones, 
and  the  attitude  of  the  non-Jewish  partisans  of  either 
side  was  distinctly  contemptuous. 

The  less  educated  of  the  Gentiles  were  frank  in  assum 
ing  a  definite  objectionable  quality  in  these  Jews  who 
were  somehow  different  and,  therefore,  of  course,  infe 
rior.  The  more  cultured  of  the  non-Jews  were  willing  to 

190 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

base  their  prejudice  upon  a  certain  standard  of  good 
taste  forever,  according  to  them,  unattainable  by  creatures 
of  Semitic  blood,  however  expensively  schooled.  Their 
failure  to  reach  this  standard  was,  once  more,  evidenced 
by  this  disgraceful  exhibition  of  their  noisome  personal 
wranglings. 

It  was  this  which  Philip  had  feared  and  to  which  David 
Gordon  was  completely  indifferent.  To  the  lawyer,  with 
his  Nationalistic  ideals,  the  Jews  were  a  Race  whose  duty 
it  was  to  work  out  their  own  destiny  and  develop  their 
own  peculiar  characteristics  as  best  they  might.  The 
Christian  might  approve,  disapprove  or  ignore — as  his 
fancy  happened  to  dictate.  Through  all  the  centuries  he 
had  never  helped,  and  after  this  lapse  of  time,  he  could 
not  hinder. 

To  Philip  the  whole  story  as  it  unrolled  itself,  with 
its  intense  angers,  its  complete  effacement  of  tolerance  and 
its  cruel  attacks  and  reprisals,  was  a  nightmare  of  agony. 
His  silences  were  misunderstood  as  well  as  his  words.  He 
could  scarcely  meet  anyone  without  some  resultant  injury 
to  his  morbid  sensitiveness.  He  imagined  all  men  and 
women  were  thinking  of  him  as  a  coward  because  he  had 
failed  to  justify  his  gallant  words  of  last  Autumn,  and  yet 
he  knew  not  what  he  could  do  when  he  found  his  mind 
and  his  emotions  waging  against  each  other  a  war  no  less 
bitter  than  that  between  Kaufman  and  the  strikers. 

How  could  these  men  gain  freedom  without  the  right 
to  organize, — yet  what  right  had  they  to  prohibit  other 
men  to  fill  their  places  in  peace,  if  these  others  so  desired? 
What  was  to  become  of  Society  if  they  must  always  work 
for  such  a  low  wage — yet  if  the  industry  cannot  yield  a 
profit  to  those  who  maintain  it,  would  not  the  most  merci- 

191 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

f  ul  employers  simply  give  place  to  others  less  scrupulous  ? 
How  can  one  fail  to  pity  the  rash  mistakes  of  men  driven 
by  abject  misery  to  deeds  of  violence — yet  is  not  the 
whole  of  civilization  bound  up  with  the  stern  maintenance 
of  law  and  order? 

Above  all,  what  part  in  the  midst  of  relentless  enmity 
can  be  played  by  a  man  who  cannot  find  it  in  his  conscience 
to  pronounce  wholesale  condemnation  upon  either  fac 
tion?  It  was  therefore  that  Philip  was  far  more  miser 
able  than  either  Clarence  Kaufman,  feeding  his  rage  in 
his  factory,  or  Israel  Ginzberg,  plotting  schemes  of  ven 
geance  in  his  prison. 

The  din  of  this  combat  and  the  struggle  in  his  own 
soul,  had  the  effect  of  building  a  wall  of  isolation  around 
Philip.  Nobody  meant  to  be  unkind  to  him.  Some  few 
guessed  how  unhappy  he  must  be,  but  he  was  obsessed 
with  a  self-conscious  certainty  of  his  failure  to  cope  with 
conditions.  He  felt  deserving  of  censure  which  he  dreaded, 
or  of  pity  which  was  worse.  So  he  avoided  as  much  as 
he  could,  the  companionship  of  his  judges.  He  even 
omitted  his  customary  visits  to  Ruth.  She  was  genuinely 
concerned  about  him  and  the  unrest  to  which  she  was 
sure  he  was  a  prey,  but  he  made  vague  excuses  for  eluding 
all  her  delicate  attempts  to  lead  him  to  share  his  unhap- 
piness  with  her.  After  all,  Kaufman  was  her  kinsman. 
Much  of  her  wealth  had  been  acquired  in  this  business; 
some  of  it  was  still  invested  there.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise  than  that  she  would  strive  to  blind  him  to  all 
other  impressions  save  those  of  her  clan?  It  was  while 
this  fit  of  melancholy  held  him  most  firmly  in  its  grip 
that  he  resolved  to  make  his  long-deferred  trip  to  the  East 
Side.  Heretofore,  he  had  always  been  too  busily  engaged 

192 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

in  some  social  or  congregational  activity.  Now  all  of  his 
occupations  seemed  to  him  to  be  things  of  mockery  and 
worthlessness.  If  he  could  not  help  these  people  whose 
cause  was  such  a  queer  blend  of  a  heart-compelling  search 
after  happiness  and  a  desperate  defiance  of  common  work- 
a-day  practicalities,  perhaps  at  least,  he  might  learn  to 
understand  them  better,  perhaps  he  might  bring  to  a  few 
of  them  the  knowledge  of  his  all-consuming  sympathy. 

With  no  better  reasons  than  these,  he  had  on  this  cold, 
damp  afternoon,  followed  the  directions  of  a  traffic  police 
man  to  take  the  Madison  Avenue  car  going  east,  get  off  at 
Lloyd  Street  and  walk  two  squares  south.  After  that, 
the  policeman  told  him,  he  might  stroll  about  in  any  direc 
tion  he  chose,  and  he  would  be  seeing  Baltimore's  Ghetto. 

Philip  had  never  been  abroad  but  his  first  impression 
was  one  of  a  foreign  atmosphere ;  not  that  there  was  any 
marked  dissimilarity  of  the  architecture  of  these  buildings 
from  those  in  other  sections  of  the  City.  The  houses  here 
seemed  older,  perhaps,  and  the  exteriors  of  most  of  them 
shrieked  aloud  for  the  ministrations  of  the  painter  and 
the  carpenter,  but  otherwise,  they  were  the  ordinary  un 
adorned  brick  houses  so  nearly  universal  in  Baltimore. 
There  were  nowhere  visible  the  canyons  of  lofty  tenement 
houses,  with  their  net  work  of  fire  escapes  which  he  had 
observed  in  his  hasty  visits  to  New  York.  When  he 
strove  to  discover  the  origin  of  his  sense  of  unfamiliarity 
and  un-Americanism,  two  things  became  detached  in  his 
mind  from  the  confusion  of  his  ideas.  The  first  was  the 
many-colored  shawls  worn  over  the  head  and  shoulders 
of  the  girls  and  women ;  the  second  was  the  overflowing 
of  the  community  life  into  the  street.  The  weather  was 
inclement,  but  the  street  was  full  of  children,  and  adults, 

IS  193 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

too,  who  seemed  to  have  no  particular  errand  there,  but  to 
be  using  it  as  a  combined  living-room,  nursery  and  social 
club-house.  Some  of  the  children  were  even  treating  it 
as  a  dining-room.  The  air  was  filled  with  a  lively  chatter 
of  voices.  Philip's  new-found  Yiddish  stood  him  in  good 
stead.  He  overheard  much  neighborly  gossip — most  of  it 
about  food,  some  about  the  growth,  ailments  and  disci 
pline  of  children,  in  school  and  out, — a  fair  degree  of 
grumbling  about  landlords,  and  a  word  or  two  about 
absent  men  being  out  of  work.  Still,  the  talk,  even  the 
grumbling,  was  cheerful  and  amazingly  intimate.  In  this 
casual  passing  to  and  fro,  Philip,  in  his  capacity  as  eaves 
dropper,  acquired  several  startling  bits  of  information — 
obstetrical  and  otherwise.  It  was  certainly  a  different 
life  from  the  one  in  vogue  among  the  members  of  Beth 
El,  but  it  did  not  seem  tragic  in  the  slightest  degree. 
Philip  had  come  down-town  to  have  his  bruised  emotions 
further  harrowed,  and  was  youthful  enough,  and  human 
enough,  to  find  himself  with  a  subconscious  sense  of  hav 
ing  been  defrauded  at  finding  East  Baltimore  so  much 
less  shocking  than  he  had  supposed.  Perhaps  his  com 
fortable  friends  spoke  the  truth.  These  men  and  women 
seemed  to  receive  enough  of  life's  necessities  to  give  them 
as  much  of  happiness  as  their  richer  fellow-citizens. 

For  a  few  minutes,  Philip's  mood  grew  completely 
capitalistic ;  but  then  his  wanderings  led  him  into  a  narrow 
little  court,  and  he  looked  up  suddenly  from  his  reverie 
to  find  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  miserably 
unkempt  houses,  each  one,  apparently,  with  a  teeming 
quota  of  inhabitants;  he  peeped  into  a  constricted  area- 
way  between  two  of  these  slatternly  houses,  and  over  a 
huge  mass  of  repulsive  looking  refuse  he  saw  the  rear 

194 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

of  the  buildings  which  faced  on  the  cheerful  street  down 
which  he  had  just  passed.  The  view  from  behind  was  a 
revelation  to  one  who  had  only  acquired  an  impression 
from  the  discreet  aspect  they  presented  to  the  outer  world. 
The  space  between  one  house  and  that  built  immediately 
behind  it  was  so  tiny  as  to  be  little  more  than  an  inter 
ior  alley,  but  these  narrow  spaces  of  ground  seemed  to 
be  the  general  rubbish  heaps  of  many  families.  Long 
flights  of  rickety  wooden  stairs  covered  the  rear  of  the 
buildings  from  the  ground  to  the  topmost  story,  telling 
even  unsophisticated  Philip  that  each  floor  of  these  struc 
tures  was  used  as  a  sleeping  and  eating  place  for  many 
people.  Philip's  enthusiasm  for  capitalistic  indifference 
was  somewhat  shaken.  Thereafter,  he  consciously  guided 
his  steps  from  the  main  streets  into  the  courts  and  lanes 
and  by-paths  which  gave  him  opportunities  to  see  the  hid 
den  side  of  these  houses.  He  was  amazed  at  some  of  the 
things  of  which  he  caught  fugitive  glimpses.  Just  off  the 
main  line  of  traffic  on  East  Lombard  Street  he  found  four 
dwellings  erected  in  what  had  once  been  a  side  yard,  and 
it  appeared  as  though  no  one  of  these  buildings  enjoyed 
the  dignity  of  being  occupied  solely  by  one  family !  Now 
he  understood  why  the  life  of  this  district  spilled  over 
into  the  streets. 

Yet  it  was  a  land  of  paradoxes.  Now  and  then  in 
the  very  heart  of  unspeakable  squalor  and  congestion, 
Philip  would  chance  across  some  oasis  which  bore  all  the 
evidences  of  cleanliness  and  comfortable  living  conditions. 
He  began  to  comprehend  the  existence  among  these  peo 
ple,  of  varying  grades  of  comparative  wealth  and  poverty. 
They  had  their  own  problems  of  riches  and  penury,  and 
perhaps,  thought  Philip,  as  much  envy  and  hatred  was 

195 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

generated  by  their  differences  of  financial  welfare  as 
between  factory  owner  and  garment  workers ;  only,  and 
this  seemed  queer  to  him,  here  the  rich  and  the  poor 
lived  side  by  side.  He  fancied  you  could  not  hate  so  thor 
oughly  the  neighbor  whose  little  children  you  saw  each 
day,  at  play. 

After  a  long  struggle,  Philip  conquered  his  self-con 
scious  shyness  sufficiently  to  force  himself  to  enter  a  few 
of  these  buildings.  He  had  a  guilty  sense  of  intrusion. 
He  half  expected  some  dark-bearded  man  to  seize  him 
roughly  by  the  shoulder  and  demand  by  what  authority 
he  came  to  pry  into  their  homes;  but  no  one  molested 
him.  He  soon  learned  why.  Each  house  was  the  abode 
of  a  number  of  families,  and  the  hallways  were  used  in 
common  by  the  visitors  of  all.  Therefore,  no  one  could 
with  certainty  presume  his  visit  to  be  one  of  idle  curiosity. 
The  interiors  of  the  houses  Philip  visited  were,  in  gen 
eral,  much  worse  than  their  exteriors,  even  when  observed 
from  the  rear.  They  were  gaunt  and  bare.  If  the  hall 
ways  had  wall  paper  at  all,  it  was  indescribably  filthy. 
They  were  utterly  cheerless.  When  an  open  door  gave  a 
glimpse  into  the  rooms,  it  seemed  impossible  that  such 
places  could  be  called  "  home  "  by  anyone ;  they  were 
merely  a  few  rooms,  mainly  occupied  by  rumpled,  unin 
viting  beds.  They  were  as  primitive  as  barns  without  the 
sense  of  airiness  and  tidiness  a  well-kept  barn  inspires. 
Many  of  these  living  quarters  had  beds  even  in  the 
dining-rooms.  Water,  in  a  number  of  cases,  seemed 
to  be  brought  from  a  pump  in  the  paved  space  in  the 
rear,  and  brought  not  too  often  or  used  too  freely.  But 
once  again,  Philip  was  struck  by  the  variations  in  these 
so-called  homes.  Here  and  there,  one  would  be  seen 

196 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

which  stood  out  from  the  others  because  of  its  general  air 
of  prosperity,  and  the  crude  attempts  of  its  occupants  to 
make  it  attractive.  The  general  effect  of  a  close  examina 
tion,  Philip  concluded,  was  even  more  depressing  than  he 
had  supposed ;  but  it  did  not  wear  the  air  of  tragedy  he 
demanded !  The  people  who  lived  in  these  absurd  quar 
ters  seemed  ridiculously  cheerful!  The  tiny  meat  and 
grocery  shops  which  abounded  everywhere  were  filled 
with  customers — to  all  appearances  no  more  discontented 
than  those  who  flocked  into  the  department  stores  in  the 
center  of  the  City.  He  wondered  if  they  did  not  know 
how  badly  they  were  being  treated !  It  occurred  to  Philip 
to  remember  how  long  he  had  been  walking.  He  was 
tired.  He  paused  to  consider  exactly  what  discoveries 
he  had  made  and  he  drew  several  conclusions  from  his 
afternoon.  There  were  too  many  people  in  this  little 
town  within  a  town.  That  was  the  crux  of  the  trouble. 
The  houses  were  ugly,  but  he  remembered  having  been 
told  by  one  of  the  older  members  of  his  temple  that  he 
had  been  born  in  this  neighborhood,  and  that,  in  his 
childhood,  all  of  the  families  now  most  influential  and 
affluent  in  the  Jewish  community  had  lived  there.  Of 
course,  this  had  been  long  before  the  flood  tide  of  immi 
gration  from  Russia  and  Poland  had  begun.  As  the  immi 
grant  Jews  had  instinctively  sought  the  vicinity  of  their 
more  Americanized  co-religionists,  the  latter  had,  one  by 
one,  abandoned  these  untutored  new-comers  and  left  them 
to  form  a  colony  for  themselves.  How  strange  and  unfa 
miliar  to  the  ghost  of  some  thrifty,  German-Jewish  house 
wife  must  these  cheerless  barracks  now  appear,  should 
she  feel  moved  in  the  dead  of  night  to  visit  once  more 
"  the  glimpses  of  the  moon,"  and  wander  among  the  sleep- 

197 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ing  scores  where  she  had  reigned  supreme  over  her  own 
loved  brood.  Still,  she  had  managed  to  live  there — the 
simple-minded,  devoted  Jewish  mother, — keeping  her 
home  a  happy  place  of  refuge,  and  training  her  sons  and 
daughters  to  become  strong  and  forceful — too  strong  and 
forceful,  perhaps.  So  it  was  not  merely  the  bad  houses, 
as  in  New  York.  It  was  the  crowd.  It  was  cramming 
into  these  houses,  each  built  originally  to  shelter  one  fam 
ily,  an  avalanche  of  people.  It  was  this  need  for  space, 
and  still  more  space,  which  had  conjured  up  the  hideous 
back  buildings  and  tenements  in  the  side  yards.  It  was 
congestion,  pure  and  simple.  Why?  Why -did -they -hud 
dle  together  in  this  fashion?  The  City  itself  was  vast  and 
unconfined.  It  could  spread  out  in  whichever  direction  it 
might  desire.  Rents  in  the  outlying  districts  were  cheap, 
and  here  they  were  high.  As  Russian-Jewish  families 
became  really  Americanized,  they  too,  like  their  German 
predecessors,  moved  on;  there  were  many  such, — like 
David  Gordon,  for  example — in  the  up-town  sections. 
But  the  true  immigrant  remained  here.  What  was  the 
reason  ? 

Philip  stopped  in  his  weary  stroll  as  he  answered  his 
question.  The  sound  of  children  babbling  in  Yiddish  came 
to  his  ears.  That  was  the  reason.  Here,  these  forlorn 
travelers  from  a  land  of  persecution,  found  themselves 
among  friends  and  fellows.  On  one  side  they  were  girt 
about  with  a  wall  of  contemptuous  Christian  indifference 
and  mockery ;  on  the  other  side  by  the  positive  antagonism, 
fear  and  occasional  condescension  of  their  Americanized- 
Jewish  brethren.  Here  was  a  City  of  refuge  of  their  own 
— unlovely,  uncomfortable,  unwholesome,  but  none  the 

198 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

less,  their  own !  This  was  the  cause,  and  it  forced  Philip 
to  the  further  query :  Was  not  the  blame  to  be  laid  at  the 
/door  of  himself,  and  of  men  like  him,  who  had  been 
ashamed  or  unwilling  to  take  these  waifs  by  the  hand 
and  teach  them — by  sharing  with  them  the  daily  round  of 
familiar  things — the  meaning  of  life  in  this  America 
of  opportunity? 

At  this  point  Philip  should  really  have  gone  home. 
He  had  seen  as  much  as  he  was  capable  of  understanding 
in  one  afternoon,  and  true  to  his  nature,  he  had  drawn 
from  what  he  had  seen  an  incentive  to  the  undertaking  of 
a  disagreeable  duty.  He  might  have  gone  to  his  rooms 
and  prepared  an  inspiring  sermon.  It  was  Philip's  misfor 
tune  to  be  cursed  with  a  craving  to  live  his  sermons — and 
to  make  others  live  them,  too. 

Therefore,  the  idea  of  calling  on  Mrs.  Ginzberg  fol 
lowed  as  an  inevitable  corollary  of  his  reasoning.  Here 
was'his  opportunity  for  stretching  out  the  hand  of  fellow 
ship, — doing  a  difficult  duty,  proving  to  his  congregation, 
and  the  whole  community,  how  little  his  inaction  had  been 
tiue  to  a  cowardly  dread  of  Clarence  Kaufman,  and  show 
ing  the  East  Side  how  much  his  heart  was  theirs,  even  if 
his  mind  could  not  altogether  approve  their  methods. 

So  he  made  inquiries  as  to  the  Ginzbergs'  lodging  place, 
and  after  some  difficulty  discovered  it  to  be  upon  the  third 
floor  of  a  large,  ugly  corner-house.  However  unprepos 
sessing  these  quarters  might  be,  they  had  air  and  light  on 
two  sides,  and  this  argued  some  intelligence  in  their 
selection.  The  building  had  an  entrance  on  Lombard 
Street  and  another  on  Albemarle,  and  it  housed  a  small 
army  of  occupants.  Nevertheless,  everyone  in  the  build- 

199 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ing  knew  the  Ginzbergs,  not  only  because  of  the  fame 
achieved  by  the  imprisoned  garment  worker,  but  because 
the  family  were  the  proud  tenants  of  the  entire  third  floor, 
which  was,  in  itself,  a  title  to  distinction.  Evidently,  Ginz- 
berg  had  been  a  man  of  some  position  and  had  been  forced 
to  maintain  appearances.  It  was  also  apparent  that  in  his 
absence  his  rent  was  being  paid  by  somebody.  Philip 
climbed  wearily  to  the  third  floor  and  tapped  timidly  at  the 
door.  Receiving  no  answer  to  his  repeated  signals,  he 
turned  the  knob  and  entered.  The  room  in  which  he 
found  himself  was  cold  and  dismal.  It  had  never  been 
papered  but  its  walls  were  reasonably  clean,  although 
through  the  broken  plaster,  the  bare  laths  showed  here 
and  there.  The  room  was  not  dirty.  There  was  nothing 
definite  to  be  said  against  it,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be 
said  in  its  favor,  either.  In  the  room  immediately  beyond, 
through  the  open  door,  could  be  seen  a  stout  woman  with 
dishevelled  hair,  seated  in  a  rocking-chair  before  a  coal 
stove.  She  was  holding  a  baby  in  her  arms.  The  woman 
was  crooning  to  the  child  in  a  wailing  minor  key  a  single 
cadence,  repeated  over  and  over.  Philip  found  this  curi 
ous  bit  of  music  strangely  appealing,  in  spite  of  its  lack 
of  conventional  melody.  The  infant  was  palpably  less 
impressed,  and  broke  forth, — as  Philip  stood  there  gazing 
at  the  picture, — into  the  fretful  wail  of  misery  which  be 
tokens  physical  pain.  The  Rabbi  stepped  to  the  door  and 
asked  if  he  were  addressing  Mrs.  Ginzberg.  The  woman 
rose  hurriedly  with  the  sick  child  in  her  arms.  Her 
cheeks,  he  noticed,  were  wet  with  tears.  She  had  no 
claims  to  good  looks  nor  to  the  outward  appearance  of 
intelligence.  Probably,  the  restless  mind  of  her  less  com- 

200 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

monplace  husband  had  left  her  far  behind  in  his  strug 
gle  toward  leadership  and  Americanism;  but  Philip  saw 
something  infinitely  pathetic  about  her.  She  was  sordid, 
dull  and  unattractive,  but  she  was  unhappy,  and  in  her 
woe,  he  thought  he  discerned  a  symbol  of  the  patient,  mis 
understanding  and  misunderstood  group  from  which  she 
had  sprung.  She  demanded  eagerly  to  be  told  whether  he 
was  "  the  doctor,"  and  he  was  fain  to  admit  his  adherence 
to  a  profession  much  less  useful  to  her — at  least  in  her 
present  predicament.  He  itold  her  in  rather  halting  Yid 
dish  who  he  was,  and  was  about  to  explain  why  he  had 
come  when  to  his  utter  consternation,  she  turned  upon  him 
in  a  gale  of  excited  anger  and  protest.  Her  voice  became 
shrill,  and  her  unfamiliar  words  poured  out  in  a  veritable 
torrent  of  undignified  abuse.  He  did  not  comprehend  all 
she  said ;  he  did  not  wait  to  puzzle  out  the  more  involved 
phrases  of  her  outburst,  but  he  had  no  difficulty  in  learning 
her  opinion  of  him  and  of  his  visit.  He  was  one  of  the 
crowd  who  were  "  killing  "  her  husband,  who  had  left  her 
to  care  for  her  poor  little  children,  and  now  he  had  been 
sent  there  to  gloat  over  the  harm  they  had  done.  She  was 
there  all  alone,  and  the  one  baby  was  going  to  die,  and  she 
supposed  he  was  glad  and  had  come  to  enjoy  the  sight  of 
her  misery.  It  was  all  extremely  absurd,  but  neither  of  the 
actors  in  the  scene  was  able  to  perceive  its  grotesque 
humor.  In  harsh  tones  and  without  giving  him  any  oppor 
tunity  to  reply  to  her  harangue,  she  told  him  to  "  get  out ;" 
to  leave  her  to  herself  in  the  midst  of  the  despair  he 
and  his  kind  had  brought  to  pass. 

Of  course,  she  was  hysterical,  and  in  all  probability 
she  expected  him  to  remain  and  remonstrate  with  her  as 
she  deserved ;  but  Philip  was  not  well  versed  in  the  ways 

201 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  women,  and  now  he  was  confronted  with  the  triple 
barriers  of  sex,  poverty  and  nationality.  He  took  Mrs. 
Ginzberg  at  her  word  and  quietly  retraced  his  steps  and 
re-entered  the  hallway.  The  woman  had  been  wantonly 
cruel  to  him.  She  had  poured  acid  into  his  already  fes 
tering  wounds.  His  first  intention  was  to  betake  his 
wretched,  useless  self  to  his  own  rooms  and  muse  upon 
the  futility  of  all  his  endeavors.  Then  it  occurred  to  him 
to  consider  the  case  of  the  sick  baby,  and  the  expected 
visit  of  the  physician.  Perhaps,  whether  the  mother 
wished  it  or  not,  he  could,  through  the  agency  of  the  med 
ical  man,  supply  the  little  invalid  with  some  comforts  it 
might  otherwise  lack.  He  would  await  the  Doctor's  com 
ing  and  intercept  him.  He  was  in  no  haste,  and  besides, 
this  small  service  would  be  doing  something.  So  he  stood 
in  the  hallway  for  awhile,  and  when  his  weariness  made 
itself  insistently  felt,  he  sat  down  on  the  bare,  dirty  stair 
case,  resting  his  head  on  his  arms,  and  his  arms  on  his 
knees,  wondering  why  he,  with  all  his  high  hopes  and 
unselfish  aims,  was  doomed  to  see  them  end  in  a  disaster 
in  which  there  was  not  even  a  trace  of  the  heroic.  How 
long  he  sat  there  in  woe-begone  self-abandonment,  he  did 
not  know.  The  shadows  grew  deeper  and  the  twilight 
became  dusk,  and  still  he  waited.  At  last  someone  de 
scending  from  the  Ginzberg  rooms  stumbled  over  him  and 
almost  fell.  He  looked  up  hastily  and  in  the  dim  light 
was  able  to  see  that  it  was  a  young  woman,  dressed  in 
the  trim  uniform  of  a  nurse.  She  appeared  no  less 
surprised  than  Philip  at  the  encounter. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  she  demanded  in  business-like 
but  pleasant  accents.     "Are  you  sick?" 

202 


A  SENTIMENTAL  JOURNEY 

The  Rabbi  by  this  time  had  risen,  and  was  standing 
before  the  nurse,  hat  in  hand. 

"  I'm  all  right,  thank  you,"  he  replied,  "  I'm  sorry 
I  was  in  your  way.  I  was  just  resting." 

The  purity  of  his  accent,  his  quiet  air  of  good  breed 
ing,  his  clean-shaven  cheeks,  and  the  modish  cut  of  his 
garments,  discernible  in  spite  of  the  dim  light,  all  told 
her  of  his  quality  as  a  stranger  in  this  building — and 
in  this  neighborhood. 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  see  you 
don't  belong  here !  " 

"  No,"  he  answered,  bitterly,  "  you're  quite  right. 
It  seems  I  don't  belong  here !  " 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

THE  girl  and  Philip  together  groped  their  way  down 
the  dusky  staircase.  There  was  no  compelling  reason  why 
he  should  accompany  her,  but  having  endangered  her 
descent  by  seating  himself  where  he  could  not  fail  to  be 
a  menace,  he  felt  a  dim  sense  of  obligation  to  return  her 
undamaged  to  the  outside  world.  She  seemed  much  more 
capable  than  himself  of  eluding  whatever  perils  might  be 
encountered  between  the  third  floor  and  the  street,  but 
there  are  certain  definite  traditions  which  inevitably  result 
from  being  born  male  or  female,  so  he  took  her  arm  and 
thereby  succeeded  in  handicapping  slightly  her  surefooted 
progress. 

When  they  reached  the  threshold  of  the  building,  the 
street  lamps  were  shining  and  th.e  two  looked  at  each  other 
with  frank  curiosity.  To  him,  she  seemed  to  "  belong 
there  "  still  less  than  he  did.  She  was  unmistakably  Celtic 
in  her  ancestry,  and  her  fair  hair,  blue  eyes  and  piquantly 
up-tilted  bit  of  a  nose,  all  proclaimed  her  as  an  alien  to 
these  people  among  whom  she  was  working.  Entirely 
regardless  of  whether  or  not  she  seemed  an  appropriate 
part  of  her  surroundings,  she  was  a  pleasant  sight  to  con 
template.  She  was  considerably  below  the  average  height, 
but  in  her  severely  tailored  uniform  her  body  seemed 
exquisitely  modelled  and  proportioned.  Her  features 
were  decidedly  irregular,  but  her  face  was  redeemed  from 
any  danger  of  the  commonplace  by  its  unusual  mobility. 
Ideas  seemed  to  course  unceasingly  through  her  mind, 

204, 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

and  with  each  change  of  thought  her  face  assumed 
another  aspect.  It  was  impossible  to  say  how  it  would 
appear  in  repose,  because  it  was  as  ceaseless  in  its  varia 
tions  as  rippling  water.  One  wondered  if  her  lips  widened 
into  fugitive  little  smiles  and  her  eyes  grew  alternately 
big  or  narrow,  under  their  closed  lids,  as  her  dreams 
breathlessly  pursued  her  through  the  hours  of  sleep. 

Just  now,  she  was  regarding  Philip  with  a  smile 
which  was  an  odd  mixture  of  good  humor,  merriment,  con 
ciliation  and  mockery. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  under  all  the  circumstances,  it 
was  his  cue  to  explain  his  presence  on  the  landing.  Even 
in  tenement  houses,  it  must  be  somewhat  out  of  the  daily 
order  of  events  for  well-bred  gentlemen  to  drape  them 
selves  on  staircases  for  busy  young  women  to  trip  over. 

"  My  name  is  Graetz,"  he  began,  holding  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  "  I  was  waiting  for  the  doctor.  I  understand  the 
little  Ginzberg  baby  is  ill.  I  suppose  I've  been  waiting 
a  long  time." 

"  Oh !  "  she  said,  her  smile  almost,  but  not  quite,  ex 
panding  into  laughter.  "  You're  the  Rabbi !  Your  gracious 
hostess  told  me  all  about  you,  and  how  she  struck  a  real 
blow  for  the  rights  of  outraged  labor.  I  didn't  believe  her 
then,  but  I  do  now,  since  she  didn't  even  leave  you  strength 
enough  for  a  dignified  retreat." 

Philip  thought  her  raillery  just  a  trifle  ill-timed. 

"  I  wanted  to  be  of  some  use  to  the  child,  no  matter 
how  the  woman  felt,"  he  explained ;  "  that's  why  I  was 
waiting  to  intercept  the  doctor.  I'm  sorry  I  got  in  your 
way.  It  seems  to  be  my  afternoon  for  being  misplaced." 

This  time  she  did  laugh,  but  her  mirth  had  lost  its 
trace  of  mockery. 

205 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Oh,  come !  "  she  urged  consolingly,  "  my  shoes  must 
have  bruised  you  as  much  as  Mrs.  Ginzberg's  tongue.  I'll 
apologize  for  both  women.  Mrs.  Ginzberg  didn't  mean 
any  more  harm  than  I  did.  You  shouldn't  have  run  away. 
You  should  have  been  harsh  and  stern  with  her — and 
with  me,  too.  That's  the  way  to  deal  with  nurses  and 
tenement  women,  and  any  other  kind  you  may  happen 
to  meet/' 

She  turned  as  though  about  to  go,  but  he  detained  her. 
Perhaps,  it  was  not  only  because  he  wanted  more  informa 
tion  that  he  was  unwilling  to  lose  sight  of  her  so  soon. 

"  Isn't  the  doctor  coming?  "  he  inquired.  "  How  did 
you  get  here  instead  ?  What's  the  matter  with  the  baby  ? 
Is  there  anything  I  can  get  for  it?" 

"  Good  gracious !  "  she  protested.  "  It's  a  woman's 
privilege  to  be  curious !  However,  the  doctor  isn't  coming 
at  all.  There's  nothing  much  the  matter  with  the  child. 
Only,  its  mother  hasn't  any  sense.  Now  that  I  come  to 
think  of  it,  that's  a  rather  serious  disease  for  a  baby,  isn't 
it?  I  came  here,  instead,  because  I  happen  to  be  a  visit 
ing  nurse,  created  for  the  express  purpose  of  saving  trou 
ble  for  doctors  and  making  trouble  for  mothers.  If  the 
Ginzbergs  needed  anything,  I'd  let  you  get  it,  just  to  help 
you  even  scores  with  her,  but  they  don't.  So  that's  all, 
and  it's  time  to  go  home,  for  me,  anyhow." 

With  that  she  daintily  tripped  down  the  front  steps, 
casting  a  farewell  nod  to  him  over  her  shoulder.  He  made 
undue  haste  to  overtake  her. 

"  Mayn't  I  go  with  you,  as  far  as  the  car?  "  he  asked. 
"  It's  grown  quite  dark." 

She  threw  a  glance  of  exaggerated  scorn  at  him. 

"  Do  you  need  protection  ?  "  she  inquired.  "  I  don't  A 
206 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

nurse  may  go  where  she  must,  whenever  she  must.  I  sus 
pect  other  women  could,  too,  but  the  helpless  pose  is  use 
ful,  isn't  it  ?  Still,  you  may  come  if  you  want.  I  take  the 
Madison  Avenue  car,  and  you  do,  too,  I  guess." 

He  would  have  strolled  at  a  leisurely  gait  the  short  dis 
tance  to  Baltimore  Street,  for  he  was  still  tired,  and 
besides,  there  were  many  questions  he  wished  to  ask  of  this 
self-reliant  young  creature;  but  the  pace  she  set  was  a 
brisk  one  and  she  seemed  to  have  a  reasonble  share  of  that 
curiosity  she  claimed  as  a  prerogative  of  her  sex. 

"  What  were  you  doing  down  here  ?  "  she  demanded, 
suddenly.  "If  you  think  it's  none  of  my  business,  don't 
hesitate  to  tell  me  so,  but  I  really  would  like  to  know." 

"  I'd  like  to  tell  you,  too,"  was  his  prompt  answer, 
"  maybe  you  could  help  me  to  go  about  it ;  but  it's  a  long 
story,  and  we'd  be  uptown  before  I  got  through.  Perhaps 
you'll  give  me  a  hearing  when  you're  not  so  hurried." 

"  I'll  be  glad  to,"  she  assured  him  frankly,  "  if  you  care 
to  spend  an  hour  with  a  woman  who  may  have  to  share 
a  boarding-house  parlor  with  six  or  seven  other  ladies, 
of  more  or  less  doubtful  age,  and  undoubted  talent  for 
neighborhood  gossip.  The  day  after  you  have  been  there 
you  may  expect  to  read  in  the  morning  "  Sun  "  a  detailed 
account  of  your  elopement  with  me  under  the  most  dis 
graceful  circumstances.  I  like  to  shock  them  now  and 
then,  but  you  belong  to  a  demure  profession." 

"  I'll  be  there  tonight,"  he  announced  without  hesita 
tion,  as  he  went  through  the  form  of  assisting  her  to 
board  the  car. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  laughed,  "  this  is  your  day  for  rash 
ness.  Mrs.  Ginzberg  and  myself  within  a  few  hours !  " 

The  car  was  crowded  long  before  it  reached  the  center 

207 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  the  city  and  they  found  conversation  difficult.  When 
it  reached  Dolphin  Street,  she  sprang  up  suddenly  and 
with  a  hasty  good-bye,  was  about  to  desert  him.  He 
darted  after  her  and  stood  beside  her  on  the  pavement. 

"  You've  forgotten  to  tell  me  your  name,"  he  stated 
with  a  sense  of  triumph  in  having  discovered  this  confident 
young  woman  at  fault. 

"  Indeed,  I  hadn't  forgotten,"  she  answered  coolly. 
"  I  was  trying  an  experiment,  that's  all.  Now  that  you 
have  asked — I  am  Ellen  Stewart  and  I  live  in  that  house," 
pointing  as  she  spoke.  "  You  can't  forget  it.  It's  the 
ugliest  one  on  Dolphin  Street." 

Promptly  at  half -past  eight,  Philip  Graetz  presented 
himself  at  the  door  of  the  house  so  superlatively  described, 
and  ordered  the  untidy-looking  negro  woman  who  re 
sponded  to  his  ring  to  take  his  card  to  Miss  Stewart.  The 
servant  eyed  him  suspiciously,  and  grudgingly  ushered  him 
into  a  vast  room  which  seemed  to  have  been  equipped  as  a 
museum  of  hideous  furniture.  From  the  center  table, 
with  its  walnut  legs  and  marble  top  on  which  there  reposed 
an  elaborate  plush  photograph  album,  to  the  highly-colored 
picture  on  the  wall  of  St.  Cecelia  among  her  listening 
angels,  the  talented  decorator  of  this  interior  had  not 
omitted  one  opportunity  to  grate  upon  the  sensibilities  of 
anyone  with  a  germ  of  the  aesthetic.  Philip  glanced  about 
the  room  with  a  growing  sense  of  distaste.  He  sniffed  a 
faint,  unpleasant  odor,  which  he  identified  as  a  subtle  blend 
of  mustiness  and  cabbage,  and  he  indulged  in  an  instant 
of  self-searching  wonder  at  the  caprice  which  had  led 
him  to  stray  into  such  surroundings  to  hold  converse  with 
a  girl  with  whom  anything  like  companionship  would,  in 
the  nature  of  things,  be  utterly  unsuitable. 

208 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

His  mood  must  have  mirrored  itself  rather  clearly 
in  his  face,  for  he  heard  a  laugh  at  the  door,  and  Miss 
Stewart  came  into  the  room,  her  eyes  dancing  with 
amusement. 

"  There's  still  time  for  you  to  go,"  she  said.  "  I'll 
never  tell  on  you,  and  a  dime  will  seal  the  servant's 
lips  forever." 

Somehow  the  sight  of  her,  and  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  completely  removed  any  lurking  desire  for  retreat 
which  may  have  lodged  in  the  Rabbi's  mind.  She  looked 
like  a  mere  wisp  of  a  girl,  and  a  singularly  attractive  girl, 
in  the  flimsy  dress  for  which  she  had  exchanged  her 
nurse's  uniform.  Her  daintiness  and  charm  seemed  mag 
nified  rather  than  obscured  by  these  dingy  surroundings. 

She  motioned  him)  to  a  chair,  covered  with  slippery 
haircloth,  and  continued  in  the  same  strain : 

"  You  can't  say  I  didn't  warn  you — 'but  no  words  could 
do  justice  to  this,  could  they  ?  If  you  could  have  seen  your 
face !  I  don't  see  how  Mrs.  Ginzberg  could  have  had  the 
heart  to  turn  you  out  of  doors,  or  I  to  keep  you  here." 

"  I  didn't  come  to  look  at  this  room  but  to  talk  with 
you,"  Philip  announced  gravely. 

"  But  you  can't  talk  to  me  without  smelling  the  cab 
bage,  can  you  ?  "  she  asked.  "  However,  talk,  learned  Sir 
— I  am  listening  meekly  as  becomes  my  inferior  sex." 

But  his  first  remark  was  neither  tactful,  nor  what 
he  had  intended  to  say. 

"  Why  do  you  live  in  a  place  like  this  ? "  he  began. 
"  I  can't  imagine  any  surroundings  which  could  have 
failed  so  completely  to  express  you — or,  at  least,  what 
you  seem." 

Over  her  mobile  face  there  passed  a  shade  of  surprise, 

14  £09 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

then  one  of  resentment  and  injured  pride.  But  before  she 
spoke  she  had  once  more  resumed  her  smile  of  amusement 
with  its  lurking  tinge  of  good-humored  impertinence. 

"  Kind  sir,"  she  said,  "  in  this  year  of  grace,  beautiful 
ladies  may  not  create  a  bower  of  their  favorite  leaves  and 
flowers,  and  there  await  the  coming  of  gallant  knights. 
Our  homes  are  chosen  to  express  not  ourselves,  but  our 
pay  envelopes.  These  romantic  surroundings  express  my 
weekly  wage  with  an  eloquence  even  a  preacher  might 
envy." 

He  knew  her  words  were  in  the  nature  of  a  rebuke, 
but  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  the  gross  injustice  of 
imprisoning  such  a  girl  as  this  in  these  unlovely  walls. 
He  wanted  to  tell  her  so,  but  found  himself  suddenly  be 
reft  of  appropriate  words.  Ellen,  however,  divined  his 
thought  without  difficulty,  and  made  haste  to  quench  his 
impulse  of  pity. 

"  Don't  you  bother  about  me,"  she  commanded,  in 
matter-of-fact  tones,  "  I  do  well  enough  here.  I've  fixed 
up  my  own  room  to  please  myself  and  it  isn't  often  I'm 
honored  by  visits  from  distinguished  gentlemen.  So  I 
haven't  spent  much  more  time  than  you  have  under  the 
shadow  of  St.  Cecelia.  Now  tell  me,  why  did  you  want  to 
come  to  see  me?  It  was  an  odd  thing,  wasn't  it?  " 

Philip  looked  at  her  with  a  slight  sensation  of  em 
barrassment.  Then,  because  he  felt  somewhat  afraid 
of  the  awkward  thought  he  imagined  to  be  lodged  in  the 
minds  of  both  of  them,  he  characteristically  forced  him 
self  to  meet  it  squarely. 

"  You  mean,"  he  asked,  "  because  I'm  a  Jew  and  a 
Jewish  Rabbi,  and  you  are  a  Gentile  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

210 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

"  I  mean  just  half  of  that,"  she  answered;  "  I  haven't 
any  religious  prejudices,  not  having  any  religion,  but  of 
course,  you  are  crammed  full  of  them,  or  you  couldn't  be 
a  minister." 

He  stared  at  her  a  moment  before  replying. 

"  Do  you  think,  then,"  he  demanded,  "  no  one  can  be 
lieve  in  a  creed,  without  an  antagonism  to  those  who  fail 
to  accept  it?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  airily. 

"  I  don't  say  it  couldn't  be  done,"  she  announced, 
"  but  it  isn't,  and  particularly,  it  isn't  done  by  you  Jews. 
You're  the  most  clannish  of  all  people.  In  your  heart 
you  have  already  decided  upon  the  superiority  of  the  left 
over  dinner  odors  of  Jewish  boarding-houses." 

He  refused  to  laugh  at  her  way  of  putting  things. 

"  If  the  Jew  is  clannish,"  he  argued,  "it's  because  of 
generations  of  Christian  persecution.  If  he  were  to  force 
himself  unsought  upon  his  neighbors,  you'd  say  he  was 
lacking  in  common  self-respect;  and  you  would  be 
right." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  you've  certainly  profited  by  the 
instruction  we've  given  you.  If  I  were  to  go  among  all 
my  friends  tomorrow  and  tell  them  you'd  called  on  me, 
they  might  think  my  taste  odd,  but  they  wouldn't  be 
shocked;  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  tell  your  people  you 
came  here,  without  any  definite  business  purpose,  they'll 
believe  you're  a  modern  St.  Anthony,  with  the  wrong 
ending  to  the  story.  What's  worse,  they'll  make  you 
think  so,  too." 

He  was  about  to  protest,  but  she  continued: 

"  Fortunately,  you  can  urge  that  you  did  come  on  a 
definite  errand.  You  were  going  to  tell  me  what  you 

211 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

were  doing  in  East  Baltimore  and  you  imagined,  perhaps, 
I  could  help  you  do  it.  Go  ahead,"  she  commanded. 

Under  her  urging,  he  told  her  the  entire  story  of  his 
ministry — of  his  rosy  plans  for  bringing  to  bear  upon  all 
Jews  the  spirit  of  their  religion,  of  the  Pioneer  strike 
with  its  miserable  sequel  of  hatreds  and  injustices,  and 
of  his  own  inability  to  bring,  either  to  East  Baltimore  or 
to  his  own  people,  his  message  of  brotherhood. 

She  did  not  smile  at  his  recital,  but  heard  him  to  the 
end  with  an  expression  varying  between  the  extremes  of 
genuine  compassion  and  sincere  respect. 

"  Now  what  I  want  to  know,"  he  concluded,  "  is  this : 
You're  not  a  Jewess,  but  you  work  among  these  people, 
and  they  like  you  and  welcome  you.  Why  can't  I  make 
them  accept  me,  whose  whole  life  is  saturated  with  Juda 
ism,  and  a  desire  to  help  them  ?  " 

"  That  was  the  exact  problem  Jesus  Christ  was  unable 
to  solve,"  Ellen  answered  soberly.  "  Don't  be  silly  enough 
to  be  shocked,"  she  added,  reading  his  face,  "  I  didn't  say 
that  either  to  be  blasphemous  or  to  appear  clever.  It 
would  be  easy  to  answer  your  question  by  saying  the 
Jews  in  East  Baltimore  are  glad  to  see  me  because  I'm 
there  to  help  them  out  of  a  definite  physical  trouble. 
When  somebody's  got  a  real  ache,  he  doesn't  care  if  it's 
a  Christian  or  a  Mormon  who  takes  it  away.  Still,  that's 
only  part  of  the  truth.  I  suspect  they  accept  me  as  an  out 
and  out  Christian  (which  I'm  not)  and  find  I  have  good 
intentions,  anyhow, — but  to  them  you're  an  apostate,  and 
no  good  intentions  can  make  up  for  that." 

"  An  apostate ! "  he  repeated,  "  how  can  they  call  me 
that?  Don't  I  come  to  them  in  the  name  of  their  own 
faith,  and  mine  ?  " 

212 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted,  "  but  your  beardless  face,  and 
your  mode  of  speech  and  your  general  air  of  prosperity, 
all  make  them  believe  you  have  shed  as  much  of  your 
Judaism  as  you  could  possibly  get  rid  of,  and  made  a  good 
bargain  for  yourself  by  doing  it." 

This  doctrine  was  so  repellent  to  Philip  that  he  took 
up  the  cudgels  against  it  with  considerable  heat. 

"  You  think,  then,"  he  demanded,  "  the  price  of  under 
standing,  is  descending  to  the  level  of  the  people  we  want 
to  help — to  go  back  to  the  bondage  of  all  the  old  super 
stitions — to  pretend  to  believe  in  the  wickedness  of  shav 
ing,  and  the  horror  of  eating  milk  and  meat  at  the  same 
time — to  force  women  to  wear  wigs  because  they  happen 
to  be  married,  and  to  separate  themselves  from  their  hus 
bands  while  they're  at  worship  ?  In  other  words,  to  lose 
all  the  Americanism  we've  gained  in  sixty  difficult  years  ? 
If  you're  right,  we  can  only  win  the  sympathy  of  the 
immigrant  Jew  by  ceasing  altogether  to  help  him,  and 
becoming  just  as  unfortunate  as  he,  himself,  is." 

She  smiled  slightly  at  his  rising  vehemence. 

"  I  didn't  say  I  believed  these  things,"  she  explained. 
"  I'm  telling  you  how  I  think  the  others  feel.  Now  that 
I  watch  you  under  the  spell  of  Religion,  I'm  not  sure,  if 
all  other  Jews  are  as  violent  as  you,  it  wasn't  a  wise 
provision  to  shut  their  women  off  in  some  place  of  safety." 

But  he  was  not  to  be  diverted  from  his  quest. 

"  Do  you  see  any  other  way  out  ?  "  he  insisted. 

"  Yes,"  she  affirmed,  "  but  you  won't  like  it  any 
better  than  the  other.  My  way  would  be  for  all  of  you 
to  stop  insisting  on  your  little  creeds,  with  their  petty 
differences.  Forget  your  narrow  religion!  You're  all 
doing  that  anyhow,  only  you're  ashamed  to  admit  it. 

213 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Encourage  yourselves  to  think  of  men  as  men  and 
Americans,  and  not  as  Jews  at  all.  Then  you've  linked 
yourselves  together  with  all  the  other  men  and  women  in 
the  country  who  want  to  have  things  the  way  they  ought 
to  be." 

Philip's  whole  nature,  all  his  past  life,  his  studies 
and  his  dreams  rose  in  passionate  protest. 

"  You  can't  make  men  live  together  in  harmony  with 
out  religion,"  he  declared.  "  Through  religion  alone  can 
you  make  men  realize  their  brotherhood  and  the  love  each 
must  cherish  for  the  other." 

She  smiled  a  tremulous  smile  of  real  pity. 

"  Yet  you  tell  me  yourself,"  she  said,  as  though  she 
hated  to  hurt  him,  "  how  impossible  you  have  found  it  to 
do  these  things — how  cruelly  they  are  bent  on  maiming 
one  another." 

"  The  fault  is  with  me,"  he  urged,  in  bitter  humility, 
"  with  me,  and  those  like  me  who  are  too  weak  to  make 
our  listeners  learn  and  practice  Truth !  " 

"  It's  not !  "  she  exclaimed  indignantly ;  "  it's  absurd 
for  you  to  torture  yourself  about  happenings  as  com 
pletely  beyond  your  control  as  the  law  of  gravitation. 
You're  trying,  with  your  beautiful  outworn  ideas,  to  deal 
with  men  who  are  sheer  puppets  in  the  hands  of  forces 
they  don't  even  understand.  You  might  just  as  well 
preach  sermons  to  a  hungry  wolf  about  to  pounce  on  a 
lamb." 

"  Will  it  help,"  Philip  asked  less  enthusiastically,  "  to 
let  the  wolf  eat  the  lamb,  without  benefit  of  clergy?" 

"  If  you  gave  both  animals  as  much  to  eat  as  they 
needed,  the  wolf  would  dine  elsewhere  and  the  lamb 
keep  out  of  harm's  way,"  she  retorted.  "  You  religionists 

214 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

only  confuse  the  issue;  particularly  you  Jews,  who  want 
to  be  a  race  apart,  as  well  as  a  separate  creed." 

It  occurred  to  Philip  to  decide  that  this  was  a  sur 
prising  girl.  She  had  ideas,  even  if  they  were  wrong. 
She  thought  things  out  for  herself. 

"  You  believe  there  is  a  solution,  then  ?  "  he  asked,  less 
to  be  enlightened  than  to  plumb  fully  the  recesses  of 
this  vigorous  young  mind. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  with  the  same  promptness  and 
dogmatism  with  which  David  Gordon  had  answered 
"  Zionism "  to  a  similar  question.  "  The  answer  is 
Socialism." 

He  relished  her  conclusion  a  little  less  than  he  had 
Gordon's.  Socialism,  in  his  mind,  was  associated  with 
unkempt,  loud-voiced  people.  The  women  especially,  he 
felt,  should  have  "  bobbed  "  hair,  clumsy  shoes,  and  cigar 
ette  stains  on  their  fingers  and  teeth.  To  find  this  deli 
cate,  sprite-like  Ellen  proclaiming  such  a  faith  was  in 
itself  an  ugly  contradiction  of  the  proprieties.  He  felt 
much  as  he  did  when  he  had  once  heard  a  tiny  child 
lisp  out  its  father's  crude  Atheism. 

"  I  can  see,"  was  her  comment,  "  how  heartily  you  dis 
approve.  Still,  that's  the  answer,  whether  you  and  your 
kind  like  it  or  not.  All  the  things  you  preach  are  totally 
impossible  in  the  world  we  have  today.  Your  congrega 
tion  couldn't  practice  them  if  it  tried.  You  can't,  your 
self.  Today,  one  must  eat  or  be  eaten.  What's  the  use 
of  telling  me  of  the  beauties  of  being  gobbled  up  ?  " 

Suddenly  she  stopped,  and  began  to  laugh  softly. 

"  It's  silly  of  me  to  argue  with  you,"  she  said.  "  If  I 
convinced  you,  your  occupation  would  be  gone,  wouldn't 
it?" 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  I  wouldn't  stick  to  an  opinion  just  to  hold  my  place," 
he  exclaimed  indignantly. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  would,"  she  conceded  generously; 
"  not  consciously,  certainly.  I  didn't  mean  that.  But  it 
would  cut  the  ground  from  under  all  your  plans  and  ambi 
tions.  That  would  hurt.  Fortunately,  nobody  ever  is 
convinced  of  anything  by  arguments — do  you  think  ?  " 

"  What  convinced  you  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly,  follow 
ing  a  more  personal  line  of  thought. 

She  wrinkled  her  brow  for  an  instant  as  though  re 
flecting. 

"  I  became  a  Socialist  all  in  one  minute,"  she  an 
swered,  "  I  had  a  patient  whose  husband  worked  in  a 
factory.  He  worked  hard,  too.  His  wife  needed  all 
sorts  of  things  he  couldn't  buy  her,  and  he  hated  Charity. 
So  do  I,"  she  broke  in  sharply  and  hotly.  "  When  people 
have  a  right  to  Justice,  what  they're  given  is  Charity.  I 
despise  it,  whether  it's  organized  or  unorganized." 

He  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  Yet  you  work  for  a  kind  of  Charity,"  he  urged. 

"  I  hate  it  all  the  worse  for  that,"  she  rejoined.  "  I 
work  to  earn  my  bread  and  the  stale  odor  of  cabbage. 
I've  no  illusions  about  my  job. 

"  Well,"  she  went  on,  "  I  went  to  the  man  who  ran 
the  factory  where  this  man  worked.  I  told  him  the 
wife  would  die  if  there  wasn't  more  money  in  the  pay 
envelope.  He  offered  me  alms.  He  was  a  kind  man. 
He  proved  to  me  the  industry  couldn't  pay  better  wages — 
proved  it  so  even  I  could  have  no  doubts.  Right  then  and 
there  I  decided  something  had  to  be  done  with  industry. 
We've  run  the  World  as  though  Men  were  made  for 
Commerce,  not  Commerce  for  Men ! " 

216 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

He  shook  his  head  with  the  sage  wisdom  of  his  years. 

"  It  isn't  enough  to  see  a  flaw  in  things.  One  must 
be  sure  the  remedy  isn't  worse  than  the  disease." 

"  No  remedy  could  be  worse  than  this  disease,"  she 
interrupted.  "  The  patient's  dying  in  agony !  There's 
nothing  to  be  lost  by  trying  any  prescription." 

She  broke  off  again  with  capricious  suddenness,  and 
smiled. 

"  Well,  I  am  arguing  after  all ! "  she  laughed,  "  but 
I  shan't,  any  more.  Perhaps  I'm  trying  to  save  you  from 
my  dangerous  influence,  by  showing  you  the  worst  of  me 
all  in  one  evening.  Irreligion,  Socialism,  St.  Cecelia,  the 
plush  album,  the  hair-cloth  chair  and  the  cabbage  dinner ! 
Your  own  Board  of  Trustees  couldn't  have  cared  for  you 
more  tenderly  than  I  have !  " 

He  said  the  gallant  things  he  knew  so  well  how  to 
say  and  then  proceeded  to  ply  her  with  questions  about 
herself,  more  flattering  because  of  the  sincere  interest 
they  displayed  than  his  more  obvious  compliments.  She 
told  him  of  herself  with  complete  frankness.  Her  father 
had  been  the  rather  prosperous  proprietor  of  a  small 
dry-goods  shop  in  a  Pennsylvania  town.  Her  people  were 
perfectly  proper  and  conservative.  She  had  been  grad 
uated  from  a  public  High  School  and  had  come  to 
Baltimore  as  a  student  at  Goucher  College.  While  she 
was  in  her  freshman  year  her  father's  business,  which 
had  for  some  time  been  growing  steadily  worse  and 
worse,  suddenly  ended  in  a  disastrous  collapse. 

"  Poor  Dad,"  she  said,  "  his  little  shop  went  to  smash 
just  because  it  happened  to  be  the  year  1908  instead  of 
1888,  but  he  still  blames  it  on  the  owners  of  the  depart 
ment  stores  and  the  mail-order  houses  who  snapped  up 

217 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

his  customers !  H'e  believes  it  was  a  plot.  That's  what 
comes  of  being  religious,  and  a  sound  party  man  in 
politics ! " 

Ellen,  thrown  on  her  own  resources,  had  matriculated 
as  a  pupil  nurse  at  the  Johns  Hopkins  Nursing  School, — 
not,  she  assured  Philip  vigorously,  because  of  any  silly 
notions  about  the  nobility  of  the  profession  she  was  enter 
ing,  but  because  from  the  very  first,  the  problem  of  living 
would  be  solved  for  her.  When  she  completed  the  course, 
she  had  been  offered  her  persent  post,  and  had  accepted  it, 
instead  of  seeking  private  patients,  so  that  her  nights 
might  be  free  from  duty. 

"  And  here  I  am,"  she  concluded,  "  aged  twenty-five — 
believing  everything  my  family  thinks  wicked,  and  stead 
ily  refusing  to  marry  the  only  young  man  in  my  home 
town  who  is  willing  to  forgive  my  eccentricities.  My 
people  are  sure  that's  the  worst  of  all  my  many  crimes. 
They  can't  see  why  I  don't  like  him.  He's  so  well  thought 
of  in  his  Building  Association,  and  I'm  not  getting  a  day 
younger,  they  tell  me.  So  I  don't  go  home  very  often. 
I  have  a  weakness  for  flattery." 

Philip  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be  surfeited  with  it,"  he 
remarked  promptly. 

"  No  woman  ever  was,"  she  informed  him  demurely. 
"  Still,  you've  flattered  me  very  acceptably  tonight,  though 
I  suspect  you  don't  know  in  just  what  way, — and  I  shan't 
tell  you,  either.  It's  no  part  of  a  minister's  duty  to  go 
gadding  about  pleasing  strange  women ! " 

"  Oh !  "  he  protested,  "  I  hope  you  don't  mean  by  that 
I  may  not  see  you  again.  We've  only  begun  to  talk  of  the 
things  I  want  to  learn.  I've  had  a  bad  day  and,  somehow, 

218 


THE  STRANGE  WOMAN 

you've  made  it  end  well  for  me.  I  may  come  again,  soon, 
mayn't  I?" 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully  as  he  stood  before  her, 
prepared  to  take  his  leave.  Then  she  smiled. 

"  Will  you  be  exceedingly  angry  if  I  remind  you  that 
you're  very  young  and  not  fit  to  take  care  of  yourself?  " 

"  There's  very  little  difference  in  our  ages,"  he  an 
swered  sharply — slightly  nettled  by  her  words. 

"  Now,  you've  just  proved  how  young  you  are,"  she 
laughed  gaily.  "  Well,"  she  said,  opening  the  door  for 
him,  "  you  shall  do  what  you  please.  Only  I  warn  you, 
if  you  really  become  a  friend  of  mine — sooner  or  later, 
you'll  be  sorry — and  if  you  don't " 

"  What  then  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  Why  then,"  she  replied  slowly,  "  it  will  be  I  who'll 
be  sorry !  " 

Before  he  could  answer  he  found  the  door  closed 
between  them,  and  he  was  not  certain  whether  or  not  the 
last  sound  he  had  heard  from  within  was  that  of  laughter. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

PHILIP  was  not  so  utterly  unsophisticated  as  to  view 
his  new-found  acquaintanceship  with  Ellen  Stewart  with 
out  misgivings.  He  knew  perfectly  well  with  what  stern 
frowns  conservative  Baltimore  viewed  the  companion 
ship  of  young  Jews  with  Gentiles  of  the  opposite  sex. 
He  knew  also  that  whether  this  restriction  had  found  its 
origin  long  years  before  in  Christian  intolerance,  or  in 
Jewish  pride  of  race,  it  found  today  no  more  eager  adher 
ents  than  among  his  own  people.  They  held  it  to  be  an 
axiom  that  if  a  young  woman — whether  Christian  or 
Jewess — were  willing  to  encourage  acquaintanceship 
with  men  of  another  race,  there  must  be  something  ob 
jectionable  about  her,  either  in  morals  or  at  least  in 
delicacy.  As  for  men,  of  course,  the  rule  was  the  same 
except  in  so  far  as  all  rules  of  morals  and  refinement  were 
subject  to  some  slight  relaxation  in  favor  of  the  superior 
and  less  responsible  sex.  But  this  greater  freedom  of 
action  allowed  to  the  lords  of  creation  did  not,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  apply  to  Rabbis.  A  preacher,  by  virtue  of  his 
contract,  must  be  as  circumspect  in  his  conduct  as  the 
most  prudish  of  ladies,  and,  at  the  same  time,  free  from 
the  slightest  taint  of  the  effeminate.  Congregations  of  all 
creeds  are  accustomed  to  buy  all  sorts  of  shades  of  per 
fection  when  they  secure  the  services  of  a  minister,  and 
no  other  employers  would  dare  to  give  open  expression 
to  such  savage  ideas  about  the  exact  letter  of  their  bond. 

Philip,  himself,  had  never  before  chafed  under  the 

220 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

rigid  regulations  to  which  he  was  subjected.  His  ten 
dency  had  always  been  toward  forcing  himself  to  do 
what  he  conceived  to  be  his  duty — the  more  difficult, 
the  better.  Therefore,  his  leanings  were  decidedly  toward 
an  asceticism  more  monkish  than  Jewish.  He  found  con 
ventional  morality  rather  easy  to  practice.  His  instinc- 
itve  love  of  beauty  included  a  fondness  for  what  he  con 
sidered  symmetrical  living,  and  to  him  all  infractions 
of  a  well-ordered  life,  free  from  anything  and  everything 
clandestine,  was  an  excess,  and  therefore  ugly.  He  had 
rather  approved  the  custom  which  set  Israel  apart  from 
all  alien  races,  even  in  its  care-free  meetings  of  youths 
and  maidens.  Such  things  led  to  intermarriage — and 
intermarriage  was  unreservedly  bad.  The  Jews  were  the 
priest-people,  the  martyr-race.  Their  long  and  painful 
mission  was  not  yet  accomplished.  There  could  be  no 
benefit  in  diluting  their  heroic  blood  with  strains  which 
were  weaker, — or  at  any  rate,  unconsecrated. 

By  all  the  rules  of  logic,  therefore,  Philip  should  have 
let  Miss  Stewart  severely  alone.  As  a  Jew,  as  a  Rabbi, 
and  as  a  man  half-committed  to  a  marriage  with  a  delight 
ful  and  highly  suitable  girl,  it  was  his  simple  duty  to 
refrain  from  so  dangerous  an  association  as  this  piquant 
nurse  seemed  to  promise.  For  the  first  time  in  Philip's 
well-controlled  life,  however,  his  rigid  rules  of  conduct 
ceased  to  guide  him.  He  was  a  Jew  and  a  Rabbi,  but  his 
race  and  his  congregation  were  brutally  inflicting  upon 
him,  day  after  day,  wounds  which  caused  more  pain 
than  he  could  bear  all  alone.  As  for  Ruth,  he  knew  his 
unexplained  absence  was  hurting  her,  and  that  fact  was 
an  additional  source  of  misery  to  him ;  but  he  could  not 

221 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

resist  an  uncontrollable  repugnance,  while  this  intolerable 
strife  continued,  to  resuming  his  habits  of  tender  intimacy 
with  this  young  kinswoman  of  Clarence  Kaufman.  He 
would  not  give  the  semblance  of  veracity  to  David 
Gordon's  coarse  newspaper  gibe  about  the  buttered  side 
of  his  bread.  Therefore,  in  the  midst  of  his  congregation, 
and  in  this  City  whose  drift  and  mystery  he  had  not  yet 
learned  to  understand,  he  was  inexpressibly  lonely.  He 
seemed  so  useless.  People  liked  to  hear  him  talk  as 
though  he  were  a  paid  entertainer.  Meanwhile,  above 
his  head  went  the  vast  current  of  the  City's  life  and 
hatreds;  if  he  were  noticed,  it  was  only,  he  imagined, 
with  contempt  as  a  negligible,  smooth-tongued  weakling. 
There  was  not  one  soul  to  whom  he  could  pour  out  the 
heart-ache  and  misery  of  his  boyish  disappointment. 

Unless — temptation  whispered — he  chose  to  make  a 
confidante — a  real  friend — of  Ellen.  She  was  older  than 
Ruth — older  than  himself.  More  self-reliant,  too,  and 
with  a  mind  wonderfully  alert,  if  less  carefully  schooled 
than  Ruth's  or  his  own.  She  was  not  afraid  of  petty 
gossip.  The  companionship  could  not  harm  her.  It  might 
even  prove  a  source  of  happiness.  Of  course,  nothing 
lasting  or  permanent  could  come  of  it.  To  a  girl  of 
her  age  and  freedom  from  mawkishness  that  would  not 
matter.  As  for  himself,  who  would  ever  learn  of  it, 
provided  he  were  a  bit  prudent?  In  the  forum  of  his 
own  conscience  he  knew  how  free  from  any  trace  of  the 
sentimental  their  relationship  would  be.  He  needed  her. 
She  offered  him  sympathy  and  a  refuge  from  his  sadden- 
'  I  .  ing  isolation — all  the  more  because  she  was  not  a  Jewess 
and  had,  therefore,  no  part  to  play  in  the  civil  warfare 
among  the  Jewish  community. 

r^  aaa 

Hp 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

So  Philip  continued  to  seek  out  Ellen  Stewart  and  to 
find  with  her  the  only  pleasant  hours  of  his  day.  For 
her  part — she  had  her  own  problems  of  loneliness  and 
no  regard  whatsoever  for  any  hampering  conventions. 
To  her,  with  her  passionate  repudiation  of  sects,  creeds 
and  parties,  his  Judaism  made  little  or  no  difference 
except  in  so  far  as  it  tended  to  narrow  his  own  horizon. 
She,  too,  realized  the  inevitable  impossibility  of  this  state 
of  affairs  continuing,  but  she  was  willing  to  enjoy  the 
present  while  it  lasted.  Her  only  concern,  in  fact,  was 
a  fear  lest  his  association  with  her  might  bring  dis 
aster  upon  him.  Therefore,  each,  without  a  word  to  the 
other  on  the  subject,  arranged  their  meetings  with  all 
possible  circumspection,  and  each  felt  a  little  ashamed 
and  injured  in  self-respect,  because  they  were  thus  slav 
ishly  appearing  to  acknowledge  a  guilty  quality  in  their 
innocent  relationship. 

They  talked  unceasingly,  upon  every  conceivable  sub 
ject,  and  there  were  few  topics  upon  which  they  found 
themselves  in  agreement.  This  did  not  seem  to  diminish 
in  the  least  the  happiness  each  found  in  the  other's  pres 
ence.  They  differed  pleasantly  and  without  bitterness. 
With  all  his  superior  equipment  of  study  and  training, 
he  found  it  almost  impossible  to  convince  her  of  any  of 
his  theories.  For  one  thing,  she  had  absolutely  no  rever-" 
ence  for  authority.  When  he  would  triumphantly  hurl 
at  her  pretty  head  some  apt  quotation  from  Huxley  con 
firming  his  views,  she  would  answer  without  an  instant's 
hesitation : 

"  What  difference  can  it  make  to  us  what  Huxley 
thought?  If  a  man  like  Huxley  can't  make  it  seem  true, 
there's  all  the  more  reason  for  supposing  it  isn't." 

223 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

For  Philip's  dreams  regarding  the  mission  of  Israel, 
she  had  nothing  but  scorn. 

"  Your  race,"  she  insisted,  "  isn't  a  bit  different  from 
any  other  variety  of  human  flesh,  except  that  it's  been 
inbred  so  long  that  all  its  prominent  vices  and  virtues 
stand  out,  sheer,  like  the  typical  Jewish  nose.  If  you've 
got  anything  to  give  the  world,  the  way  to  do  it  is  to 
mingle  yourselves  with  the  rest  of  men,  and  mix  your 
wonder-working  blood  with  all  of  us  whom  you  admit 
need  it  so  badly." 

He  explained  patiently,  yet  with  enthusiasm,  the 
necessity  for  the  Jew  doing  his  own  work  unhampered  by 
any  confusion  of  conflicting  traditions. 

"  What  special  work  have  you  Jews  to  do  in  the 
world  ?  "  she  demanded  sharply. 

"  We're  to  bring  peace,  brotherhood,  the  recognition  of 
a  spirituality  in  the  daily  order  of  life.  This  shall  be  the 
common  faith,  in  one  form  or  another,  of  all  mankind." 

She  tossed  her  head  impatiently :  "  Who  doesn't  aim 
at  that?"  she  insisted;  "the  Christian,  the  Jew,  the  Mo 
hammedan,  even  the  Atheist,  claims  the  exclusive  right 
to  save  the  world  in  just  this  way.  I  claim  it  for  the 
Socialist.  So  you  see  it's  not  a  matter  of  religion,  at  all." 

"  That's  just  it,"  he  exclaimed  triumphantly,  "  you  all 
want  to  do  it,  but  you  can't.  But  we  can,  because  we 
alone  have  stood  faithful  to  this  ideal  through  centuries 
of  persecution." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  and  do  it,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Now  that  the  persecution  is  done  with,  you've  done 
with  the  ideal,  too.  Look  at  your  prosperous,  well-fed 
Jew  of  today.  Look  at  Clarence  Kaufman.  How  much 
more  of  brotherhood  or  spirituality  has  he  than  I  ?  " 

224 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

"  It's  there,"  he  insisted  doggedly.  "  There's  a  Jewish 
idealism  under  the  shell  of  the  man  if  I  could  only  dig 
down  to  it.  It's  the  treatment  of  the  Jews  by  the  Chris 
tians — the  exclusions,  the  petty  humiliations,  the  cold, 
bitter  lack  of  sympathy,  which  have  made  the  modern 
Jew  what  he  seems  to  be." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  she  answered  thoughtfully.  "If 
your  Jews  were  what  you  think,  Christian  influence  could 
have  done  them  no  harm.  In  America,  for  fifty  odd 
years,  you've  been  shut  out  from  only  the  worst  side  of 
national  life.  The  schools,  the  universities,  the  libraries, 
the  opportunities  for  public  service,  are  all  open  to  you. 
You're  barred  out  only  from  country  clubs,  summer 
hotels,  and  miserable  cliques  of  stupid  parasites,  where 
people  with  too  much  money  gather  to  do  the  things  work 
ing  men  would  be  ashamed  to  imitate.  Exclusion  from 
such  things  should  have  intensified  your  idealism.  But 
what  have  you  done?  Since  you  couldn't  join  the  Chris 
tian  in  this  folly,  you've  aped  his  stupidity  among  your 
selves.  You've  built  up  your  own  little  clubs  and  hotels 
and  made  your  own  little  groups  of  snobs.  Bah!  men 
are  men,  and  the  sooner  they  forget  their  tags  and  their 
ridiculous  claims  to  superiority  and  learn  to  work  to 
gether  as  human  beings,  the  sooner  we'll  do  something 
worth  while  with  the  world." 

And  from  this  position  she  steadfastly  refused  to 
budge. 

All  the  talk  of  this  oddly  assorted  pair  was  not,  how 
ever,  of  creeds  and  prejudices.  They  talked  of  her  work 
and  of  his,  of  the  books  they  enjoyed  and  the  ideas  which 
pleased  them,  and  most  of  all,  did  they  talk  of  them 
selves, — freely,  constantly,  and  with  unblushing  interest 

15  225 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

in  this  all-important  subject,  after  the  manner  of  youths 
and  maidens — Jew  and  Gentile — Buddhist  and  Brahmin 
— since  Nature's  cardinal  masterpiece — or  blunder — of 
Sex  was  first  revealed  to  a  purblind  world  of  males  and 
females.  From  these  meetings,  Philip  came  with  a  curi 
ous  gain  and  loss  of  self-respect.  He  had  found  someone 
who  understood  and  appreciated  him — no  matter  how 
much  she  might  differ  from  his  conclusions.  All  the 
more  was  this  true  because  this  understanding  woman 
was  of  another  race  and  faith  and  must  unconsciously 
have  given  him  her  regard  in  spite  of  the  trammels  of  an 
inherited  prejudice  and  contempt.  This  gave  him  strength 
and  vigor  to  go  about  his  duties  with  firmness  and 
courage — no  matter  how  much  or  how  little  his  congrega 
tion  might  think  of  his  conduct  with  regard  to  the  strike. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  carried  with  him  always,  a 
haunting  sense  of  something  in  his  life  clandestine,  hid 
den,  almost  shameful,  and  this  secret  affected  subtly 
every  phase  of  his  thought.  He  knew  he  had  done  noth 
ing  evil,  yet  he  was  no  longer  exactly  what  he  seemed. 
In  a  sense,  he  was  a  conscious  sham,  and  this  knowledge 
made  him  even  more  than  before,  morbidly  anxious  to 
avoid  all  save  formal  contact  with  his  parishioners. 

Among  the  many  stimulating  ideas  which  Philip  culled 
from  his  talks  with  Ellen  was  this  conception  of  a  latent 
Jewish  idealism  dormant  in  all  the  race — even  the  most 
sodden.  He  preached  a  singularly  appealing  sermon 
sounding  this  note,  and  almost  immediately  thereafter 
became  possessed  with  a  desire  to  put  his  theory  into 
practice.  He  would  take  his  faith  and  his  message  direct 
to  Clarence  Kaufman.  He  would  awaken  him  to  the 
high  duties  due  by  him  to  his  race.  Single-handed  he 

226 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

would  accomplish  this  miracle  and  at  one  stroke  vindicate 
the  Religion  he  loved  so  fervently,  and  bring  this  strife 
among  brothers  to  a  triumphant  end.  Ellen  found  it 
impossible  to  share  his  hopes.  Perhaps,  subconsciously, 
she  had  some  faint  realization  of  the  certainty  with  which 
a  conclusion  of  his  perplexities  would  terminate  their 
companionship.  Perhaps  she  was  merely  more  intolerant 
than  he  of  a  man  who  typified  to  her  the  obnoxious  thing 
called  "  Capital."  At  any  rate,  she  tried  to  dissuade 
Philip  from  his  endeavor. 

"  You'll  never  get  him  to  see  your  point  of  view,"  she 
insisted.  "  Even  if  you  did,  he  couldn't  afford  to  admit 
it  now.  If  you  meant  to  appeal  to  him,  you  should 
have  done  it  at  the  very  beginning,  before  he  had  so  much 
to  take  back." 

"  I  didn't  know  there  was  any  strike  until  long  after 
the  beginning,"  Philip  objected. 

"  It  was  then  you  lost  your  chance !  Don't  bother," 
she  added,  almost  cynically,  "  you'll  have  plenty  of  strikes 
to  look  forward  to." 

But  he  refused  to  be  diverted.  "  What  have  I  to 
lose  ?  "  he  argued.  "  If  I  fail,  I'll  merely  be  proving  what 
you've  been  maintaining  all  along  about  the  power  of 
Religion." 

"  I'm  enough  of  a  sportswoman  to  want  your  theories 
to  have  a  real  test,"  she  answered,  "  not  one  with  a  fore 
gone  conclusion." 

He  knew  this  was  not  her  true  reason,  and  his  eyes 
continued  to  question  her. 

"  Well  then,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  actual  defiance, 
"  if  you  will  have  it,  I  don't  want  you  to  lose  faith  in 
yourself.  When  you  get  through  with  that  man,  you'll 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

be  a  wretched  creature.  You'd  better  leave  yourself  in  a 
state  of  uncertainty.  I  know  I'm  silly.  I  know  I've  been 
right,  and  you've  been  wrong,  all  the  time,  but  a  woman's 
logic  always  breaks  down  somewhere.  I'd  rather  you'd 
be  happy  than  be  able  to  see  things  straight !  You  were 
never  born  to  do  both !  " 

And  before  he  could  answer  she  was  gone,  leaving  him 
to  make  what  he  could  of  her  mood.  He  could  not  but 
feel  the  appeal  of  her  thought  for  him,  yet  her  words 
troubled  him,  too.  Perhaps,  even  at  twenty-five  a  woman 
had  not  altogether  lost  her  last  shreds  of  sentimentality ! 

He  had  no  intention,  however,  of  abandoning  his 
project  of  an  interview  with  Kaufman.  The  very  next 
morning  he  telephoned  that  gentleman  and  made  an  ap 
pointment  for  the  evening.  The  time  was  indeed  not 
well  chosen.  Gordon's  newspaper  attacks  had  grown 
more,  rather  than  less,  vitriolic.  The  pleasant  thought 
had  occurred  to  him  of  unearthing  from  the  public 
records,  and  exhibiting  to  an  uncharitable  world,  the 
perfectly  innocent  contributions  made  at  the  preceding 
election  by  Mr.  Kaufman  and  sundry  other  directors  of 
the  Pioneer  Company  to  the  campaign  fund  of  the  suc 
cessful  candidate  for  the  office  of  State's  Attorney.  That 
official  was  an  exceedingly  popular  and  entirely  well- 
meaning  gentleman  and  there  were  few  business  men  of 
his  own  party  of  any  degree  of  affluence  who  had  not 
offered  some  substantial  assistance  in  meeting  the  ex 
penses  of  his  canvass.  This  had  been  done  in  perfect  good 
faith  and  without  the  slightest  effort  at  concealment.  In 
fact,  the  statutes  required  the  publication,  immediately 
after  the  election,  of  the  names  of  all  such  contributors, 
together  with  the  amounts  they  had  given,  and  this  re- 

228 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

quirement  had  been  duly  obeyed.  Today,  however,  an 
advertisement  had  been  published  calling  attention  to 
these  generous  free-will  offerings  and  skillfully  calculated 
to  induce  ribald  conjectures  regarding  the  possible  con 
nection  between  the  pliancy,  in  this  particular  case,  of 
the  public  prosecutor,  and  the  money  with  which  he  had 
procured  his  election.  Not  the  least  irritating  of  the 
characteristics  of  this  adroit  bit  of  authorship  was  its 
absolute  freedom  from  a  single  actual  falsehood.  Before 
sundown,  six  of  the  most  ingenuous  lawyers  in  the  City 
had  examined  the  advertisement  microscopically,  thirsting 
for  the  opportunity  to  file  a  libel  suit,  yet  the  facts  re 
cited  were  exact,  and  studiously  free  from  comment.  The 
public  was  left  to  infer  what  it  chose,  by  a  man  who  felt 
no  doubts  as  to  its  preference  for  assuming,  without 
argument,  the  corruptibility  of  all  politicians,  and  the 
infallible  habit  of  money  never  being  disbursed,  except 
to  purchase  money's  worth.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
done  about  it,  other  than  to  publish  in  full  the  long  list 
of  all  the  other  contributors  to  the  fund.  Some  of  the 
most  honored  men  in  the  City's  public  and  mercantile  life 
were  among  those  named,  but  the  very  lawyers  who 
advised  this  form  of  defence  knew  perfectly  well  how 
little  effect  it  would  have  in  preventing  a  pre  judgment 
of  the  case  of  Israel  Ginzberg.  They  swore  long  and  deep 
at  David  Gordon,  and  admired  secretly  the  sinister  clever 
ness  of  the  man. 

Clarence  Kaufman  was  still  smarting  under  the  effects 
of  this  fresh  thrust  when  his  young  spiritual  guide  came 
tapping  at  his  door  with  admonitions  regarding  the 
brotherhood  of  man  and  the  beauty  of  forgiveness.  The 
Rabbi,  himself,  could  not  but  anticipate  a  hostile  recep- 

229 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

tion.  When  he  had  read  the  newspapers  that  afternoon, 
he  would  gladly  have  postponed  his  pastoral  call,  but 
the  appointment  had  been  made  and  to  withdraw  now, 
because  his  parishioner  had  been  given  an  additional 
grievance,  would  have  been,  to  his  mind,  more  absurd  than 
submission  to  a  flat  rebuff. 

Therefore,  Philip  found  himself  seated  in  Clarence 
Kaufman's  library  awaiting  gloomily  the  entrance  of  the 
President  of  his  congregation.  The  room  was  not  alto 
gether  unrepresentative  of  its  owner,  although  his  part  in 
its  decoration  and  equipment  had  been  that  of  final  arbiter 
rather  than  originator  of  ideas.  Its  furniture  was  massive 
and  expensive-looking  rather  than  beautiful.  Yet  there 
was  nothing  in  the  room  which  could  be  said  to  be  in 
actual  bad  taste.  The  many  books  on  the  shelves,  arrayed 
in  their  much  too-uniform  bindings,  did  not  wear  a  con 
vincing  air  of  having  been  frequently  liberated  from  their 
places  of  imprisonment.  One  looked  involuntarily  on  the 
walls  for  great,  gilt,  framed  paintings  of  fruit  and  animals, 
without,  however,  finding  them.  It  was  the  kind  of  room 
where  one  searches  minutely  for  some  evidence  of  the 
crudity  he  feels  certain  he  must  discover  somewhere,  and 
finally  confesses  with  keen  disappointment  his  failure  to 
locate  anything  more  tangible  than  an  indefinable  atmos 
phere. 

Into  this  library  there  walked  slowly  the  huge  frame 
of  Clarence  Kaufman,  as  massive  as  the  furniture,  but 
not  modelled  with  such  careful  artistry.  Tonight  he 
seemed  to  Philip  much  older  and  more  careworn  than 
ever  before.  If  the  strike  had  brought  hunger  and  disease 
into  the  gaunt  tenements  of  East  Baltimore,  it  had  not 
altogether  spared  the  proprietor  of  this  luxurious  home 

230 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

on  Eutaw  Place.  As  the  two  men  exchanged  greetings, 
Philip's  heart  was  filled  with  a  great  wave  of  tenderness 
toward  all  these  blind  men  who  were  thus  wounding  each 
other  and  themselves,  in  their  unreasoning  fury.  In  spite 
of  his  four  and  twenty  years  he  felt  toward  this  elderly 
man  and  his  enemies  as  though  they  were  heedless,  unruly 
little  children  who  needed  to  have  the  jagged  stones  they 
were  thoughtlessly  hurling  at  each  other,  taken  from  them, 
and  themselves  led  home  to  be  soothed  and  comforted  till 
their  pains  had  ceased  and  the  hatreds  had  died  out  of 
their  hearts. 

Clarence  Kaufman  must  have  read  in  the  minister's 
thoughtful  face  how  little  of  partisanship  was  in  his 
mind,  and  he  turned  to  him  with  sincere  warmth. 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Graetz,"  he  said  earnestly  in  his  deep, 
harsh  voice,  "  I'm  glad  you've  come  to  talk  things  over 
with  me." 

"  I  felt  I  had  to,"  Philip  began. 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Kaufman  continued,  "  I'm  only  sorry  you 
didn't  come  before.  I'd  have  sent  for  you,  except  that  I 
didn't  want  to  embarrass  you." 

Philip  perceived  a  delicacy  in  this  speech  much  more 
pronounced  than  he  had  expected,  in  spite  of  Mr.  Kauf 
man's  calm  assumption  of  his  Rabbi's  subjection  to  his 
beck  and  call.  It  was  not  like  Philip,  however,  to  stand 
on  a  petty  question  of  dignity,  so  he  responded  with 
prompt  cordiality. 

"  I  wish  you  had.  I'd  have  come,  anyhow,  only  I 
wasn't  sure  just  what  I  wanted  to  say  to  you;  but  now, 
I  know  at  least  how  I  want  to  begin.  Do  you  remember 
that  night  last  fall  at  Dr.  Frank's  home  when  I  said  if 
I  felt  something  wrong  was  happening  in  the  community 

231 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

which  you  could  remedy,  I  should  come  straight  to  you  ?  " 
Kaufman  nodded  and  answered  slowly  and  wearily : 
"  I  told  you  then  I  would  show  you  how  right  I  was, 
or  agree  to  do  what  you  wanted.    And  now  I'm  going  to 
show  you.     It's  a  long  story  and  a  miserable  one,  but 
you'll  see  before  I've  finished  how  we've  done  everything 
humanly  possible  to  bring  these  scoundrels  to  their  senses ! 
If  there's  anything  further  you  can  suggest,  God  knows 
we'll  be  glad  to  try  it." 

Philip's  eyes  widened  in  surprised  dismay.  After  all 
these  weeks,  Kaufman's  only  thought  seemed  to  be  the 
complete  rectitude  of  his  actions.  The  Rabbi  had  come, 
apparently,  not  to  teach  but  to  be  lessoned.  They  would 
never  make  any  progress  in  such  fashion.  Very  gently, 
he  explained  the  futility  of  this  method  of  attacking  the 
problem. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Kaufman,"  he  urged,  "I  think  it 
would  be  useless  to  go  all  over  the  history  of  the  strike. 
I've  read  every  statement  you've  issued  and  every  paper 
on  file  at  the  State  Bureau.  I'm  sure  you  always  acted 
for  the  best,  as  you  saw  it.  Maybe  it  was  best,  too,  as  an 
abstract  proposition.  But  that  isn't  what  I'm  thinking  of 
tonight.  You  and  I  are  Jews.  We  love  our  faith.  If 
you  didn't,  vou  wouldn't  have  given  so  freely  of  your 
time  and  wealth  to  the  Temple.  You  surely  aren't  satis 
fied  with  merely  having  the  Temple  crowded  and  pros 
perous.  You  want  the  spirit  it  stands  for  to  make  head 
way  among  all  Jews  and  to  be  respected  among  non- 
Jews.  Now,  we're  having  a  civil  war  among  the  Jews,  and 
the  Christians  are  mocking  us.  We're  hurting  Judaism 
in  Baltimore — wounding  it  almost  mortally.  You're  the 
Captain  of  one  side  in  this  war.  Let's  assume  you've 

232 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

been  altogether  in  the  right  from  the  start!  but  it's  our 
own  brothers  against  whom  you've  pointed  your  weapons 
— the  very  men  we  want  to  teach  the  meaning  of  our 
message.  Even  a  complete  victory  in  such  a  struggle, 
would  be  a  disaster  we  could  never  completely  retrieve, 
in  your  lifetime  or  mine.  Can't  we  make  Peace?  Isn't 
any  business  quarrel  a  tiny  thing  compared  with  the 
welfare  of  Judaism,  and  of  God's  Truth?" 

As  Philip  spoke,  his  whole  frame  reflected  the  glow 
of  his  enthusiasm ;  he  leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  his  eyes 
flashing,  his  beautiful  voice  tender  with  the .  sincerity  of 
his  appeal. 

For  several  minutes  after  he  had  concluded,  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  Pioneer  Company  made  no  reply.  His  ex 
pression  was  one  of  bewilderment,  as  though  he  had  been 
listening  to  a  discourse  in  some  foreign  tongue.  Finally, 
he  replied,  his  guttural  tones  contrasting  unpleasantly  with 
the  rich  musical  intonations  of  his  visitor. 

"  Doctor,  I  hardly  know  how  to  answer  you.  You're 
a  splendid  talker  and  I'm  not,  but  you've  got  to  remember 
this:  I  didn't  start  this  war,  as  you  call  it.  I  haven't 
done  the  things  which  have  turned  an  ordinary  business 
quarrel,  as  simple  as  a  dispute  about  the  price  of  buttons, 
into  a  knock-down  and  drag-out  fight.  I  can't  believe 
that  it's  my  duty  to  submit  to  all  the  abuse  and  injury 
this  scum  of  Europe  has  thrown  at  me  just  because  they 
happen  to  be  Jews,  like  myself.  I  don't  believe  Religion 
means  anything  like  that.  If  it  does,  then  I  don't  know 
anything  about  Religion  and  I  don't  want  to." 

"  But,  Mr.  Kaufman,"  Philip  pleaded,  "  just  because 
they  are  poor  and  ignorant  and  in  despair,  can't  you  see 
they  are  bound  to  do  rash  things — yes,  cruel  and  wicked 

233 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

things,  for  which  you  can  afford  to  forgive  them  because 
you've  had  the  good  fortune  to  have  opportunity  and 
wealth.  Can't  you  see,"  he  was  about  to  quote  the  phrase, 
"  noblesse  oblige  "  but  hurriedly  remembering  his  auditor 
might  not  understand  its  meaning — he  concluded  by  say 
ing,  instead,  "  Can't  you,  because  of  your  very  superiority, 
find  it  in  your  heart  to  pardon  what  you,  yourself,  could 
not  commit  ?  " 

Very  slowly  and  inflexibly,  the  capitalist  shook  his 
head. 

"  Pardon  me,  Doctor,"  he  replied,  "  you're  a  wonder 
ful  young  man,  as  I  always  said,  but  you  don't  know  the 
Russian  Jew.  How  should  you  ?  You're  decent  straight 
through,  and  it's  natural  you  should  think  they're  just 
like  you,  only  without  your  brains  and  advantages.  That's 
why  I  didn't  harbor  any  grudge  against  you  when  I  heard 
about  your  vote  at  the  Charity  Society.  But  you're 
wrong !  The  poor  and  the  ignorant  aren't  the  ones  who 
are  doing  these  things.  The  more  education  and  good 
living  you  give  them,  the  more  dangerous  they  are.  It's 
well-fed,  college-taught  men  like  Gordon  who  have  turned 
this  little  fight  into  a  hell !  You  wouldn't  call  him  poor  or 
ignorant,  would  you,  any  more  than  you  would  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  Philip  hastened  to  concede,  "  he's  certainly  a 
much  brainier  man  than  I  feel  myself  to  be,  but,  Mr.  Kauf- 
.  man,  Gordon  would  be  utterly  powerless  if  he  didn't  have 
v  this  mass  of  unhappy,  desperate  men  upon  which  to  work. 
r  So  it  really  mounts  up  to  the  same  thing.  If  all  you  say 
"  about  the  immigrant  Jew  is  true,  don't  you  see  there's 
all  the  more  reason  why  we  must  lead  him  to  accept  our 
own  ideas  of  what  our  Religion  means?  He's  in  the 
majority  already.  The  whole  future  of  the  Jew  in  Amer 
ica  is  in  his  hands.  Do  you  want  to  leave  him  free  to 

234 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

develop  it  without  help  from  us  who  have  had  a  half 
century  the  start  of  him  in  this  country  ?  " 

"  No,"  Kaufman  answered,  "  I  don't.  That's  why  you 
can't  give  him  his  way.  When  a  boy  is  downright  bad, 
you  can't  discipline  him  by  giving  him  whatever  he  hap 
pens  to  want.  You  punish  him.  That's  what  we've  got 
to  do  with  these  anarchists.  They  won't  be  in  the  mood 
for  accepting  any  instruction  from  you  till  they  learn  one 
lesson : — In  America  a  man  has  got  to  obey  the  Law." 

A  hundred  quick-tempered  retorts  leaped  to  Philip's 
lips,  but  he  repressed  them  sternly,  remembering  he  had 
come  not  to  debate,  but,  if  possible,  to  convince. 

"  Mr.  Kaufman,"  he  began  again,  "  it's  idle  to  treat 
this  as  a  mere  matter  of  phrases.  If  you  succeed  in  all 
you  want  to  do,  you'll  only  reap  a  harvest  of  hate  for  our 
selves  and  for  our  kind  of  Judaism.  That's  why  I  want 
to  make  Peace,  Don't  you  see  I  only  came  to  you  because 
I'm  trying  to  do  the  best  I  know  how  for  the  Religion 
you  brought  me  here  to  preach  ?  Mere  sermons  are  noth 
ing  if  the  man  who  preaches  them  doesn't  care  what 
happens  among  the  people  he  wants  to  help." 

"  I  know !  I  know !  "  Mr.  Kaufman  said,  "  I'm  sure 
you  want  to  do  what's  right,  but  you  can't  let  your  heart 
run  away  with  your  head,  either.  You  ought  to  be  talk 
ing  these  ideas  to  the  other  side,  not  to  me.  We've  always 
been  reasonable." 

Philip  caught  eagerly  at  the  hope  his  host  had  not 
intended  to  hold  out  to  him. 

"  I  will  talk  to  them ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  just  along 
these  lines,  if  you'll  let  me  say  I  have  your  authority  to 
discuss  a  peace,  honorable  to  both  of  you." 

The  factory  owner  brought  his  fist  crashing  down  on 
the  mahogany  table. 

235 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"Go  tell  them  their  duty,  if  you  want  to — not  that 
they'll  listen  to  you!  But  for  our  part,  we  shall  make 
no  more  concessions  than  we've  offered  from  the  start. 
We  said  we'd  arbitrate  the  wage  scale.  We  couldn't  have 
been  fairer  than  that.  Their  answer  was  to  kill  one  of 
our  men.  When  the  Law  undertook  to  punish  the  crim 
inal  who  set  them  at  this  business  of  throwing  bricks, 
they  weren't  willing  to  trust  the  courts  of  their  own 
State  like  decent  citizens,  but  spent  thousands  of  dollars, — 
they  got,  God  knows  where, — trying  to  make  out  we're 
the  criminals  instead  of  the  men  who  teach  fools  to 
murder  honest  workingmen.  Let  them  take  back  their 
foul-mouthed  lies  about  how  we  treated  our  men  like 
underfed  dogs,  and  worked  children  in  our  plant  and 
bribed  State's  Attorneys,  and  then  they  can  come  back  to 
work  if  they  want.  We're  still  willing  to  arbitrate  the  wage 
scale.  We  won't  go  one  step  further — not  if  I  knew  to 
morrow  their  brick-bats  would  fall  on  me ! " 

Philip  looked  sadly  at  the  angry  man  across  the  table. 

"  Let  me  say  you'll  arbitrate  the  question  of  the 
Union,  and  I'll  try,  night  and  day,  to  bring  this  thing  to 
/an  end.  I'll  try  so  hard,  I'm  sure, — I'm  sure,  I  must 
succeed." 

The  capitalist  was  not  unmoved  by  the  breathless  ear 
nestness  of  the  Rabbi,  and  his  refusal  was  certainly  not 
easy  for  him  to  phrase. 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  he  insisted ;  "  I  pledge  you  my  word 
I  hate  to  say  'no'  to  you,  but  I  can't.  If  we  once  turn 
our  factory  over  to  the  Unions,  it  won't  be  our  business 
any  more.  I  won't  have  it.  I  won't  let  a  crowd  of  ragged 
foreigners  dictate  to  me  how  I  must  run  my  plant.  I'd 
rather  close  down." 

"  It  isn't  as  though  it  were  '  your  business  '  just  as 

236 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

your  watch  is  yours,"  Philip  argued,  trying  to  put  into 
palatable  form  an  economic  truth  which  he  felt  would, 
at  the  best,  prove  distasteful  to  Kaufman.  "  It's  too  big 
for  that.  It's  the  public's  business,  partly.  And  the  men 
who  spend  their  lives  in  helping  to  make  your  product — 
aren't  they  concerned  at  all  in  the  way  it's  managed  ?  " 

"  No,"  Kaufman  protested,  "  that's  the  idea  that  is 
running  wild  over  this  country.  If  the  men  don't  like 
my  methods  they  can  go  elsewhere.  I  can't  hold  them 
against  their  will,  can  I  ?  If  my  business  goes  to  smash, 
they  can  whistle  a  tune  and  walk  across  the  street  to  a 
new  job.  If  it's  their  business,  let  them  finance  it.  The 
business  is  the  Capital  I  furnish." 

Philip  smiled  his  most  conciliating  smile. 

"  I'm  afraid  you're  wrong  there,  Mr.  Kaufman,"  he 
said.  "  You're  partners  in  a  sense,  after  all.  You  do 
furnish  the  money  and  the  machinery;  they  wouldn't 
be  much  good  without  labor,  nor  would  the  labor  be  much 
good  without  the  machines  and  the  capital." 

He  was  about  to  enlarge  upon  this  text,  according  to 
the  wisdom  he  had  gleaned  from  the  best  books  upon 
the  subject,  when  Clarence  Kaufman  interrupted. 

"  There's  no  use  talking  that  kind  of  stuff  to  me," 
was  his  unflattering  comment,  "  I  can't  answer  you  be 
cause  I  don't  understand  it.  All  I  know  is  that  if  I  put 
my  money  into  a  business,  I  ought  to  have  a  right  to  say 
on  what  terms ;  if  you  say  '  no '  I  won't  put  it  in  at  all." 

The  two  men — completely  deadlocked — sat  together 
in  silence.  It  was  the  Rabbi  who  broke  this  hush  with  a 
final  appeal. 

"  Mr.  Kaufman,"  he  begged,  determined  not  to  owe 
his  defeat  to  any  mere  question  of  pride,  "  perhaps  I 
haven't  been  able  to  put  things  as  well  as  I  should.  Maybe 

237 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

my  arguments  haven't  been  the  ones  I  ought  to  have  used. 
But  I  know  it's  right  that  there  should  be  peace.  You 
know  it,  too,  in  your  heart.  Do  it  for  my  sake!  Even 
if  you're  sure  you're  giving  up  too  much,  do  it  to  save 
my  ministry  from  failure!  It's  all  my  future  you  hold 
in  your  hands !  " 

Kaufman  rose  heavily  and  opening  a  table  drawer, 
produced  some  faded  old  photographs. 

"  Your  work's  a  success  already,  Doctor,"  he  said 
heartily,  while  he  was  so  engaged,  "  an  enormous  suc 
cess  !  There's  never  been  any  preacher  in  Baltimore,  Jew 
or  Christian,  who  has  scored  such  a  triumph  as  you  have, 
in  so  short  a  time." 

Philip's  heart  sank  within  him.  The  man  saw  no 
difference  whatever  between  mere  applause  and  actual 
accomplishment.  Where  was  the  Jewish  idealism  of 
which  he  had  boasted  to  Ellen  ? 

Meanwhile,  Kaufman  returned  to  the  Rabbi's  side 
with  the  sheaf  of  photographs  in  his  hand. 

"  Look  here,  Doctor,"  he  said ;  "  here  are  some  pic 
tures  of  my  father  and  mother." 

The  younger  man  examined,  with  interest,  these  copies 
of  the  features  of  the  sturdy,  rugged  Jew  and  Jewess  of 
a  half  century  before.  Kaufman's  parents  had  been 
young  then,  and  if  the  minister  might  judge  from  their 
attitudes  and  expression,  Life  had  been  to  them  a  clear, 
simple  matter  of  plainly-marked-out  duties,  with  much  of 
anxiety  and  labor,  but  with  rewards  no  less  definite  than 
its  tasks.  Both  of  them,  so  young  and  alert  when  the 
pictures  had  been  made,  had  long  since  tasted  of  old 
age,  and  perhaps  lived  to  wonder  dimly  regarding  the 
value  of  all  the  things  they  had  struggled  so  valiantly 
to  gain — until,  finally,  Death  had  come  to  blot  out  what- 


THE  APPEAL  TO  CAPITAL 

ever  vague  doubts  and  surmises  their  many  years  had 
bestowed  upon  them ;  on  the  pictures,  however,  they  were 
still  brimming  with  youth  and  vitality,  clear-eyed  with  the 
realization  of  the  few  things  they  meant  to  accomplish, 
and  the  resolute  certainty  not  to  meet  defeat. 

"  These  were  my  parents,"  Kaufman  repeated.  "  My 
father  came  here  from  Bavaria  when  he  was  only  eighteen. 
He  couldn't  speak  one  word  of  English.  He  borrowed  a 
few  dollars  from  another  man  who  had  come  from  the 
same  village,  and  bought  all  sorts  of  odds  and  ends  of 
dry-goods  and  peddled  them  through  the  country  towns. 
People  laughed  at  him  and  played  tricks  on  him.  Some 
times  he  had  to  sleep  by  the  side  of  the  road.  Often  he 
went  hungry.  He  didn't  whine  about  his  rights  as  a  human 
being  and  the  duty  of  the  State  to  feed  him.  He  kept 
on  working  till  he'd  saved  up  a  few  dollars  of  his  own. 
Then,  he  and  my  mother — he'd  married  by  this  time — 
started  a  little  tailor  shop  on  Exeter  Street.  Here's  a 
picture  of  the  house."  He  held  it  out  to  Philip. 

"  It's  a  tenement  house,  now,"  the  Rabbi  reminded  him, 
hoping,  while  the  capitalist  was  in  this  gentle  mood,  to 
bridge  the  gulf  between  him  and  the  modern  Ghetto- 
dwellers. 

Kaufman,  unheeding,  went  on  with  his  narrative : 

"  I  was  born  there,"  he  announced  proudly.  "  At  first 
my  father  did  nothing  but  mend  clothes.  Meanwhile,  he 
was  learning  how  to  make  them.  By  and  by,  he  saved 
up  enough  to  buy  a  few  machines.  My  mother  helped 
in  the  shop.  When  they  could  afford  to  have  a  few 
helpers,  they  treated  them  just  like  part  of  the  family. 
My  mother  cooked  their  meals  for  them.  They  were  as 
much  interested  in  their  work  as  my  father  was.  The 

239 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

hum  of  the  sewing  machines  is  the  first  thing  I  can 
remember." 

He  paused  for  a  minute  and  then  resumed  in  a  firmer 
tone: 

"  That  little  shop  is  what  grew  into  the  Pioneer  fac 
tory  !  My  father  and  my  mother  put  every  bit  of  their 
lives  into  it.  They  worked  for  it,  they  planned  for  it, 
they  saved  every  penny  to  help  it  grow.  They  taught 
me  to  feel  the  same  way  about  it.  And  now  you  come 
here  telling  me  it  isn't  my  business !  It  is  my  business ! 
It's  got  my  blood  in  it,  and  the  blood  of  my  father 
and  mother!  I  won't  let  it  be  looted  by  a  crowd  of 
ignorant  law-breakers  who  would  ruin  the  place  tomorrow 
to  make  an  extra  dime  a  week." 

Philip  listened  with  mingled  emotions.  What  force 
could  his  abstract  theories  bring  to  bear  against  these 
warm  personal  prejudices,  woven  out  of  such  childhood 
memories?  Yet  this  idealism  he  had  sought,  was  there 
not  some  germ  of  it  here  in  the  heart  of  the  man's  blind, 
unreasoning  refusal  to  do  what  was  right  and  just,  in 
this  day  of  changed  and  complex  conditions  ?  He  made 
no  reply,  sitting  there  puzzled  and  dejected. 

When  the  defeated  advocate,  at  length,  rose  to  take 
his  departure,  the  older  man  laid  his  hand  kindly  on  the 
Rabbi's  shoulder. 

"Don't  you  take  it  to  heart  so  much,  Doctor,"  he 
counselled ;  "  it's  a  bad  business,  of  course,  but  not  so  bad 
as  it  would  naturally  seem  to  a  young  man  from  a  small 
town,  like  you.  It's  not  the  first  strike  we've  had,  and 
it  won't  be  the  last,  either.  You'll  get  used  to  them  before 
long ;  and  we'll  teach  these  fellows  their  places,  sooner  or 
later." 

240 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

ELLEN'S  skepticism  regarding  the  power  of  Religion 
in  dealing  with  the  conflicting  claims  of  angry  men,  seemed 
completely  vindicated,  yet  she  displayed  a  puzzling  un 
willingness  to  gloat  over  the  confirmation  of  her  theories. 
It  was  a  perplexed  young  minister  who  came  to  her  for 
comfort;  he  had  been  completely  baffled  in  what  he  had 
undertaken,  but  he  felt,  more  than  ever,  the  certainty 
of  some  method — if  he  could  only  chance  upon  it — of 
bringing  about  a  wholesome  kindliness  of  feeling  between 
men  who  were  all  so  human,  and  so  warm-hearted  be 
hind  the  armor  of  their  lusts  and  hates. 

Ellen  did  what  she  could  to  stimulate  this  hope.  She 
seemed  to  have  laid  aside  her  own  militant  theories  that 
through  force  alone  could  Justice  be  established — no 
matter  how  much  of  pain  it  might  cost  to  well-meaning 
soldiers  enrolled  in  the  wrong  army.  She  appeared,  too, 
to  have  lost  no  little  of  her  spirit  of  raillery  and  per 
verse  contradiction.  She  was  evidently  trying,  with  all 
her  might,  to  save  Philip  from  losing  faith  in  himself  and 
his  work,  and  under  her  encouragement  he  bore  his  failure 
with  an  altogether  unexpected  freedom  from  despair. 

One  evening,  however,  a  few  days  later,  Philip  was 
amazed,  upon  seeking  Ellen,  to  be  told  of  her  sudden 
departure  from  the  City.  Without  a  word  of  warning  to 
him,  she  had  gone  away,  leaving  no  message  except  the 
bare  statement  that  she  had  obtained  a  brief  leave  of 

16  241 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

absence  from  her  duties,  and  would  return  on  the  follow 
ing  Monday. 

Of  course  she  had  a  perfect  right  to  come  and  go 
as  she  pleased;  nevertheless,  Philip  was  annoyed.  At 
least  she  might  have  writen  or  telephoned  him  of  her 
intention.  He  returned  to  his  own  apartment,  and  aim 
lessly  sat  down  to  read.  After  a  few  minutes,  he  became 
conscious  of  a  total  ignorance  of  the  contents  of  the  page 
before  him.  He  had  been  thinking  about  Ellen.  He  made 
a  vigorous  effort  to  concentrate  his  attention  upon  the 
book  he  had  chosen,  but  found  it  an  impossible  task. 
Ellen's  face,  with  its  saucy  smile,  and  Ellen's  voice,  with 
its  provokingly  disrespectful  laughter,  would  not  be  ban 
ished.  Disgusted  with  himself  and  not  altogether  free 
from  anger  at  the  girl  for  her  thoughtless  conduct  in 
depriving  him  so  unceremoniously  of  an  evening's  com 
panionship,  he  rather  sullenly  made  ready  for  sleep;  but 
after  his  lamp  had  been  extinguished,  he  found  sleep  would 
not  come  to  him.  The  many  ideas  he  had  meant  to  discuss 
with  Ellen  came  trooping  insistently  through  his  brain  and 
he  imagined  endless  dialogues  with  her — upon  all  sorts  of 
personal  and  abstract  subjects.  He  would  certainly  find 
her  absence  a  definite  loss  to  him.  Perhaps  he  had  come 
to  rely  too  much  upon  her.  He  must  steel  himself  to 
go  about  again  among  the  young  people  of  his  own  group. 
Perhaps  her  unexpected  disappearance  was  not  altogether 
a  misfortune.  There  was  Ruth.  He  had  behaved  rather 
badly  to  her.  Since  he  could  find  it  possible  to  visit 
Kaufman,  he  could  not  fairly  excuse  himself  for  his  dis 
courteous  neglect  of  this  girl  who  had  been  so  frank  to 
show  him  how  warmly  she  regarded  his  friendship.  She 
wouldn't  be  human  and  feminine  if  she  failed  to  resent  it. 

242 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

Still,  he  wouldn't  find  it  difficult  to  regain  her  favor. 
Tomorrow  night,  then,  it  should  be  Ruth.  He  tried  to 
think  of  the  excuses  he  would  offer  to  her,  and  of  the 
turn  their  conversation  would  take,  but  persistently  and 
inflexibly  the  imagined  Ruth  would  shrink  in  stature  and 
stateliness ;  her  dignified  and  fastidious  dark  beauty  would 
be  transformed  into  a  piquant,  never-to-be-analyzed  charm 
of  mischievous  blue  eyes  and  gold  hair,  and  it  would  be 
Ellen,  not  Ruth,  who  appeared  before  his  eyes ;  an  Ellen, 
too,  imperceptibly  less  matter-of-fact  and  self-reliant 
than  the  one  he  had  known.  Her  eyes  seemed,  somehow, 
with  all  their  mockery,  a  little  more  inviting — her  mobile 
lips,  more  alluring! 

He  raised  his  head  from  the  pillow  with  a  sudden 
shock  of  surprise  and  dismay  at  the  images  persisting  in 
his  mind.  He  was  dumfounded  to  perceive  how  small  a 
part,  after  all,  of  his  desire  for  Ellen's  return  was  due 
to  his  mere  wish  to  talk  with  her  again.  Struggle  against 
it  as  he  might,  he  wanted,  with  all  the  force  of  his  long- 
repressed  youth,  to  clasp  her  fiercely  in  his  arms,  to  kiss, 
and  kiss  again  and  again,  those  rebellious  eyes  and  lips  into 
meekness  and  submission.  He  sprang  from  his  bed  and 
relit  his  lamp.  These  were  strange  discoveries  to  find 
at  the  bottom  of  a  Rabbi's  mind,  certainly  not  character 
istic  of  himself — disgraceful,  in  fact!  How  unutterably 
humiliated  Ellen  would  be,  if  she  could,  by  some  miracle, 
know  what  was  happening  in  his  soul !  Then  the  lurking 
Devil,  who  from  the  beginning,  has  chosen  for  his  favorite 
pastime  the  tempting  of  holy  saints  and  sages — young  and 
old — whispered  into  his  ear  a  doubt  as  to  Ellen's  complete 
disdain  of  his  new-found  mood.  Would  she  be  sorry?. 
Would  she,  with  her  frank  contempt  for  convention,  for 

243 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

social  dogma,  and  for  his  faith,  as  well  as  for  the  one 
which  should  have  been  her  own,  pretend  a  repugnance 
because  he  had  become  conscious  of  her  body  as  well  as 
her  soul  ? 

He  paced  the  narrow  room,  in  an  agitated  survey  of 
his  emotions.  He  wanted  this  dainty  girl  of  an  alien 
race;  he  wanted  her  quick,  untaught  mind,  her  noble 
scorn  of  what  seemed  to  her  to  be  false  and  unjust,  but 
he  wanted  her  appealing,  illusive  beauty,  too — he  wanted 
all  of  her!  He  might  pretend  what  he  chose,  he  could 
not  deny  what  every  fibre  of  his  nature  cried  aloud.  He 
must  have  felt  as  he  now  did  for  many  days,  only  it  needed 
this  crisis  to  make  his  own  self  clear  to  him.  Here  was 
his  problem,  to  be  met  and  dealt  with  as  the  man,  or  the 
Rabbi,  might  prove  the  stronger. 

The  Rabbi  was  the  first  to  enter  the  lists  against  the 
mere  man.  Philip  reminded  himself  with  merciless  logic 
of  the  peril  which  confronted  at  once  his  future  and  the 
laborious,  carefully-planned  years  behind  him.  To  what 
purpose  had  he  spent  his  days  of  study  and  preparation 
if  he  were  now  to  fling  aside  recklessly  the  tasks  he  had 
painfully  taught  himself  to  do.  What  could  he  make  of 
his  life  if  he  should  link  his  career  with  Ellen's?  The 
pulpit  would  be  closed  to  him — absolutely  and  irrevocably.- 
He  was  unfitted  for  all  other  forms  of  activity.  He  could 
write,  it  was  true,  but  only  homilies,  exhortations  and 
theological  studies.  These  things  would  gain  no  hearing, 
flowing  from  the  pen  of  a  disgraced  Rabbi.  He  could 
throw  himself  with  what  poor  ardor  he  could  artificially 
kindle,  into  Ellen's  plans  for  social  regeneration.  Still,  he 
knew  how  lukewarm  they  would  ever  find  him.  He  was 
essentially  a  Jew.  He  did  not  want  to  be  anything  else. 

244 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

This  broad  idea  of  completely  merging  his  race  among 
all  other  peoples  left  him  cold  and  unmoved.  There  was 
her  Socialism  to  be  worked  for,  but  while  he  could  rise 
to  a  pitch  of  ecstasy  in  his  dreams  of  realizing  Israel's 
mission,  the  statistical  Utopian  plans  of  Ellen's  comrades 
seemed  to  him  wilful  self-delusion — more  or  less  harmful. 
Unless  he  paused  now,  the  rest  of  his  life  was  destined 
to  be  spent  in  busying  himself  as  best  he  could  with  useless 
little  tasks,  while  he  lived  meagerly  upon  the  scant  income 
his  dead  father  had  worked  to  give  him. 

The  man  Philip,  thus  assailed  by  the  Rabbi  Graetz, 
had  not  one  argument  to  urge.  With  the  image  of  Ellen 
before  his  eyes,  he  foreswore  logic,  and  thought  instead 
of  the  countless  men  since  Adam,  who  for  the  sake  of 
some  woman's  smile,  have  blithely  forsaken  their  Edens 
to  find  with  her  another  Paradise  in  the  desert. 

"  But  would  you  be  happy  with  her,"  the  Rabbi  de 
manded,  "  or  she  with  you  ?  What  can  you  hope  from 
such  a  marriage?  You  begin  with  a  sacrifice  of  all  your 
hopes  and  ambitions — certain  to  make  you  moody,  sullen 
and  discontented.  You  haven't  one  belief  in  common. 
It's  easy  enough  to  differ  good-naturedly  about  everything 
you  discuss,  but  when  the  two  of  you  must  bring  your 
selves  to  some  joint  action,  how  will  you  force  her  to 
follow  your  plans,  or  yourself  to  yield  to  hers?  The 
friends  she  has,  will  have  nothing  but  contempt  for  you — 
a  Jew  and  a  renegade  Jew,  at  that.  Your  own  friends 
will  shun  you  as  something  loathsome.  Without  work 
of  your  own,  and  with  nothing  but  hostility  for  your 
wife's  work,  how  long  will  your  unreasoning  Love  con 
tinue  to  live?  Ellen  will  not  even  be  able  to  respect 
you — a  useless,  worthless  bit  of  human  driftwood,  eating 

245 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

the  bread  you  have  not  earned.  If  she  could  find  it 
possible  to  accomplish  the  miracle  of  an  undiminished 
love  for  a  man  who  was  absolutely  without  any  title  to 
regard,  you  yourself  would  be  always  and  ever  bitterly 
conscious  of  her  adverse  verdict  and  your  own.  Suppose 
children  are  born  to  you !  That  would  be  the  worst  of 
all — a  desperate  problem  and  cause  of  strife  between  the 
man  and  woman  who  had  called  them  into  being,  instead 
of  a  bond  of  union  and  a  source  of  pride.  They  could 
never  be  taught  to  redeem  their  father's  desertion  from 
his  duty — to  complete  the  work  he  had  abandoned  to 
follow  the  call  of  personal  happiness.  Even  if  their 
mother  should  refrain  from  active  opposition,  such  plans 
would,  in  themselves,  constitute  an  unpardonable  affront 
to  her,  involving  so  gross  an  indelicacy,  that  her  blood  in 
her  offspring  would  rise  in  protest  to  defeat  his  purpose. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  would  find  it  unspeakably  bitter  to 
watch  his  own  sons  and  daughters  completely  lost  to  the 
heritage  of  his  ancestors — unconscious  or  indifferent  to 
all  the  hopes  and  all  the  agony  which,  through  the  long 
centuries,  generations  of  Jews  had  bequeathed  to  him — 
Philip  Graetz — as  the  peculiar  birthright  of  his  race,  to 
be  used,  somehow,  in  marvelous  ways, — certainly  not  to 
be  tossed  carelessly  to  the  wirtds. 

The  Rabbi  found  it  ridiculously  easy  to  silence  the 
man;  but,  unfortunately,  his  victories,  won  almost  with 
out  opposition,  were  also  without  benefit.  The  Rabbi 
could  think  and  argue ;  but  the  man,  in  wounded  silence, 
continued  to  suffer,  and  to  long  unceasingly  for  the 
woman  he  knew  only  too  well  he  should  forget. 

The  days  which  followed  were  for  him  an  unrelieved 
horror  of  yearning  and  conflict.  The  duty  which  he 

246 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

frankly  recognized,  of  renouncing  Ellen  completely  and 
irrevocably,  not  only  laid  upon  him  a  sense  of  tragic  loss 
of  something  inexpressibly  dear  to  him,  but  was  in  addi 
tion  an  active  definite  pang,  attacking  at  one  blow  his 
mind,  his  emotions  and  his  senses.  He  must  at  all  cost 
stifle  his  boundless  yearning  for  Ellen,  and  yet  he  could 
not.  Life  without  her  would  be  vacant,  painful,  without 
incentive,  but  a  future  with  her  would  be  worse.  If  he 
obeyed  the  Rabbi  in  him  he  would  have  no  spirit  to  go 
on  with  the  work  to  which  he  was  pledged ;  if  he  obeyed 
the  passionate  human  impulses  now  bruising  themselves, 
in  impotent  revolt  against  their  confining  prison  bars, 
there  would  never  again  be  any  work  for  his  restless, 
ambitious  nature  to  undertake. 

Nevertheless,  through  all  the  daylight  hours  of  unre 
lenting  struggle,  and  the  sleepless  nights  of  sternly- fought 
desire,  this  cruelly-besieged  young  Philip  preserved  an 
unshaken  certainty  as  to  the  ultimate  result  of  the  war  in 
his  soul. 

Just  as  confidently  as  Clarence  Kaufman  had  made 
sure,  sooner  or  later,  of  teaching  the  agitators  their  places 
in  his  annoying  industrial  conflict,  the  Rabbi  clung  to 
his  belief  in  his  ability,  at  the  end  of  this  combat,  to 
emerge,  shaken  and  unhappy,  perhaps,  but  complete  victor 
over  his  rebel  emotions,  and  undisputed  master  of  himself. 

When  Monday  arrived,  however,  he  did  not  decide  to 
avoid  Ellen.  If  he  considered  the  possibility  of  bringing 
their  friendship  so  abruptly  to  an  end,  it  was  only  to 
reject  it  without  much  consideration.  It  would  be  un 
necessary — needlessly  cruel  to  both  of  them.  If  they 
were  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  lives  apart,  there  could 
be  no  purpose,  certainly,  in  spoiling  the  beauty  of  their 

247 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

memories  by  a  final  act  of  unexplained  rudeness.  Surely 
he  could  trust  himself  to  be  with  her  a  few  more  times, 
to  guide  their  relationship, gradually,  to  a  stage  where  they 
might  meet  seldom — perhaps  never,  yet  think  of  each  other 
pleasantly  and  with  earnest  regard. 

With  these  resolves  fixed  firmly  in  his  mind,  he  went 
boldly  to  her  home,  but  when  he  found  himself  alone 
with  her,  he  suddenly  forgot  all  his  misgivings,  all  his  un 
answerable  arguments,  all  his  prudent  schemes  for  their 
skilfully  arranged  separation — everything,  in  fact,  except 
how  poignantly  he  had  suffered  because  of  her  absence 
and  that  now,  once  again,  she  was  with  him. 

He  grasped  tightly  the  hand  she  extended  in  greeting, 
and  murmured  in  low,  half-embarrassed  tones : 

"  I've  missed  you — missed  you  tremendously !  You'll 
never  know  how  much  I've  missed  you !  " 

Her  smile  seemed  tremulous  to  him.  Her  fingers, 
too,  trembled  in  his  strong  grasp. 

An  instant  later,  without  either  of  them  knowing  how 
it  had  come  to  pass,  he  had  clasped  her  hungrily  in  his 
arms,  and  the  kisses  he  had  dreamed  of  had  become  vivid, 
living  actualities.  And  she  had  made  no  effort  to  thrust 
him  from  her. 

******* 

It  was  Ellen  who  returned  first  to  the  consciousness 
of  other  things  and  other  people,  in  an  unsympathetic  and 
censorious  world. 

She  motioned  him  to  a  chair,  and  seated  herself  at 
an  uncompromising  distance  from  him. 

"  That's  why  I  went  away,"  she  said  with  seeming 
irrelevance.  He  nodded  comprehendingly,  but  with  some 
thing  of  awe  in  his  thoughts.  Did  girls — did  Ellen — have 

248 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

such  days  and  nights  as  those  which  he  had  endured? 
Had  he  and  she,  separated  by  weary  miles,  been  keeping 
together  an  unhappy  vigil  of  alternate  longings  and  re 
nunciations  ? 

"  That's  why  I  went  away,"  she  repeated ;  "  I  saw  it 
first — and  felt  it,  too.  A  woman  always  does.  And  that's 
why  I'm  going  away  again." 

It  was  such  a  sensible  termination  of  the  little  idyll. 
Nobody  would  know.  Neither  of  them  had  been  harmed. 
She  could  do  her  work  as  well  elsewhere  as  here.  Absence 
would  in  time  lay  its  healing  hand  upon  the  wounds  of 
both.  The  Rabbi  Graetz  approved  the  plan  heartily  and 
without  reservation.  It  was  precisely  what  he  himself 
might  have  urged  had  it  not  involved  a  rather  indelicate 
sacrifice  for  a  man  to  demand  of  a  woman.  The  man 
Philip,  however,  found  the  very  possibility  of  her  loss 
intolerable,  and  it  was  the  man,  not  the  minister,  whose 
spirit,  fed  upon  those  never-to-be-forgotten  caresses,  was 
now  in  control. 

"  No !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  can't  let  you  go !  How  can 
you  bear  even  to  think  of  it?  You  can  never  go  away 
again,  without  me." 

Ellen  made  an  involuntary  movement  toward  his  side. 
Her  face  told  such  a  story  as  a  man  might  blithely  toss 
away  many  things  to  learn.  But  she  quickly  repressed 
herself. 

"  What  else  can  we  do?  "  she  asked,  rather  piteously. 

The  Rabbi  part  of  Philip,  with  all  its  keenness  of 
analysis  and  trappings  of  the  schools,  then  and  there  aban 
doned  him  and  left  the  mere  man  to  pour  out  his  inco 
herent,  unreasoning  wildness,  just  as  though  he  had  been 
an  untaught,  unthinking  farm-hand  or  garment  worker. 

He  told  her  what  could  be  told  of  his  struggles  with 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

himself,  of  his  unquenchable  need  of  her,  of  his  unhappi- 
ness;  he  assured  her  of  his  absolute  inability  to  live 
through  such  an  experience  again;  he  was  ready  to  go 
away  with  her,  anywhere,  and  at  once.  Nothing  could 
matter  if  he  had  her.  He  could  do  without  his  work. 
He  could  stand  the  loss  of  his  friends  and  his  reputation. 
They  must  be  married  the  very  next  day  and,  amid  new 
surroundings,  found  together  a  home  where  they  could 
forget  everything  except  one  another. 

When  he  paused  for  breath,  her  eyes  were  moist,  but 
her  spirit  was  unshaken. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I've  thought  of  all  that,  my  dear," 
she  asked,  "  thought  of  it,  and  dreamed  about  it?  But  it 
wouldn't  work!  You've  been  telling  yourself  all  along 
it  wouldn't;  why  else  have  you  been  so  unhappy?  I 
love  you  for  being  willing  to  do  it,  but  I'd  hate  worse 
than  anything  else  to  have  to  live  beside  you  and  see  you 
trying  not  to  show  me  how  much  you  blamed  me  for 
having  ruined  your  life !  " 

He  protested  vehemently  against  the  possibility  she 
spoke  of,  too  vehemently,  in  fact,  to  be  perfectly  con 
vincing.  She  could  only  shake  her  head  in  despairing 
certainty. 

"  Think !  Philip— think !  "  she  replied,  "  I'd  hate  any 
man  who  spoiled  my  life — no  matter  if  I  loved  him  in  the 
midst  of  my  hate.  I  won't  do  to  you  what  I  wouldn't  let 
you  do  to  me.  We'd  have  one  month  of  happiness  and  pay 
for  it,  day  by  day,  for  a  whole  lifetime." 

"  Well,  then,"  Philip  exclaimed,  passionately,  leaping 
to  his  feet,  "  it's  worth  it !  Give  it  to  me !  I'm  willing 
to  pay." 

'  "  But  I'm  not  willing  to  watch  you  pay,  my  dear,"  she 
answered  very  gently.    "Don't  suppose  it's  because  I'm 

250 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

not  fighting  with  all  my  strength  not  to  say  '  yes '  to 
you,  or  because  I'm  too  unselfish  to  have  you  pay.  It's 
because  I  know  I  couldn't  bear  to  watch  you  do  it.  I 
couldn't,  and  I  won't !  " 

He  pointed  out  to  her  the  inconsistency  of  her  de 
cision  with  all  the  ideas  she  professed.  She  had  a  thou 
sand  times  exclaimed  against  his  intense  love  of  race ; 
she  had  proclaimed  her  own  utter  indifference  to  all 
questions  of  creed  or  faith ;  she  had  no  shred  of  belief  in 
the  value  of  the  work  to  which  he  was  dedicated  or  the 
possibility  of  its  producing  the  slightest  results.  How 
then  could  she  attach  so  much  importance  to  the  abandon 
ment  by  him  of  his  Race,  Creed  and  labors? 

She  twisted  her  lips  into  a  curious  little  smile  of 
tenderness,  amusement  and  pain. 

"  How  funny  men  are !  "  she  said,  "  even  when  they 
really  love  you!  Can't  you  see  it's  not  your  stupid  old 
work,  or  your  hateful  Jews  I  care  about!  It's  you!  I 
don't  believe  in  your  work — not  one  bit — but  I  believe 
in  it  for  you.  If  I  knew  you'd  never  be  happy  again  unless 
you  could  blow  soap  bubbles  for  the  rest  of  your  life, 
don't  you  think  I'd  fight  to  keep  anyone  from  breaking 
your  pipe?  And  yet  you  ask  me  to  break  it  myself." 

"  But  if  I  tell  you  I  can  be  happy !  "  Philip  insisted. 

"  I'd  know  you  were  lying,"  she  answered,  "  a  beauti 
ful  lie — the  kind  I'd  want  you  to  tell  me — but  a  lie  just 
the  same.  You  and  I  weren't  made  to  look  on  life  in  the 
same  way — to  want  the  same  things  from  it.  Maybe  it's 
because  you're  a  Jew,  after  all!  I  can't  tell,  but  I  do 
know  how  you'd  hate  me !  " 

There  was  a  long,  unbroken  silence.  Then  Philip 
sighed  miserably. 

"  Then  you're  sure  there's  no  hope  for  us  ?  " 

251 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Yet  so  curious  are  the  odd  twists  and  paradoxes  of  life 
and  sex,  there  would  certainly  have  been  a  hope  for 
Philip  had  he  been  just  a  shade  less  fine  and  austere  than 
he  actually  was;  and  if  one  could  have  fathomed  the 
deepest  recesses  of  the  thought  of  this  girl  who  was  will 
ing  for  his  sake  to  deny  to  both  of  them  the  happiness 
they  craved,  one  might  have  been  amazed  to  discover  how 
fervently  she  wished  that  coarser  strain  in  him  had  not 
been  absent.  For  if  it  was  true — and  neither  could  con 
vincingly  deny  it — that  they  could  find  together  an  absorb 
ing  happiness  for  a  brief  month,  at  the  price  only  of  a 
lasting  unhappiness,  and  that  the  loss  of  that  month  also 
spelled  many  years  of  disappointment  and  crushed  desire, 
the  answer  was  simple.  It  was  the  permanence  and  the 
publicity  of  their  union,  which  would  mean  his  withdrawal 
from  the  only  activities  for  which  he  was  fitted.  An 
irregular  relationship  which  might,  with  care,  have  been 
hidden  from  all  the  world,  would  have  left  him  free  to  do 
what  work  he  pleased.  As  long  as  the  two  of  them 
found  in  it  a  source  of  happiness  it  might  continue  un- 
marred.  When  it  proved  irksome  to  either,  the  bond  could 
be  gently  and  noiselessly  broken  asunder.  Had  Philip 
proposed  the  possibility  of  such  a  solution  of  their  prob 
lem,  Ellen  would  have  welcomed  it,  not  with  mere  acqui 
escent  submission,  but  with  warm  enthusiasm.  There 
were  no  restraining  influences  to  bid  her  pause.  Her 
family  ties  had  ceased  to  have  much  meaning  for  her; 
Religion  was  to  her  a  pretty  myth  which  Man  had  long 
since  outgrown;  the  conventions  of  Society  were  fetters 
to  enslave  unthinking  human  beings  so  that  they  might 
be  more  docile  servants  of  the  masters  who  found  profit 
in  the  worship  of  Things  as  They  Are.  She  had  cher- 

252 


THE  MAN  AND  THE  RABBI 

ished  the  secret  hope  of  seeing  this  plan  take  root  in  Philip's 
mind,  now  when  all  other  schemes  for  finding  happiness 
had  proved  fruitless.  It  was  not  because  she  retained 
any  vestiges  of  what  she  would  have  scornfully  termed 
"  mid- Victorian  prudery  "  that  she  gave  no  hint  of  her 
thought  to  the  man  she  loved  with  such  complete  aban 
don.  She  could  see  nothing  of  dishonor  or  sin  in  a  frank 
recognition  of  what  seemed  to  her  the  inevitable  con 
sequences  of  a  great  unselfish  affection.  But  she  felt, 
instinctively,  that  if  she  told  Philip  what  was  in  her 
mind,  she  would  lose  in  his  eyes  something  of  the  charm 
and  delicacy  which  made  him  crave  her  so  passionately. 
She  rebelled  hotly  against  this  judgment  even  while  she 
obeyed  it.  If  her  love  must  never  end  in  fulfilment, 
because  of  a  silly,  monkish  superstition,  nevertheless, 
she  could  do  nothing  or  say  nothing  which  might  blast 
it  utterly  and  completely, — making  even  its  memory  a 
thing  of  ugliness  and  repulsion.  To  Philip  this  possibility 
of  a  clandestine  and  unsanctified  union  had  never  oc 
curred — or,  at  least,  if  it  had  ever  invaded  the  outposts  of 
his  consciousness — he  had  banished  it  with  such  instant 
shrinking  from  the  degrading  and  loathsome  possibility, 
as  to  cause  it  to  slink  completely  away  into  the  black 
ness  from  which  it  came.  And  indeed,  for  him,  such 
an  attitude  was  the  only  rational  one.  His  relationship 
toward  his  congregation,  his  duties  and  himself  had  al 
ready  been  affected  because  he  had  permitted  himself 
the  stolen  luxury  of  innocent  meetings  and  pleasant 
speech  with  a  girl  of  alien  race.  He  had  done  nothing 
for  which  he  could  justly  blame  himself,  yet  there  was  a 
part  of  his  daily  round  of  happenings  which  he  con 
sciously  and  jealously  hid  from  the  eyes  of  others.  His 

253 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

nicely-balanced  nature  was  unable  to  adjust  itself  to  this 
slight  compromise,  without  a  perceptible  loss  in  enthusiasm 
and  spiritual  well-being.  It  was  a  true  instinct  which 
saved  him  from  the  horror  of  attempting  to  proclaim  to 
his  people  his  message  of  faith  and  justice,  while  his  own 
soul  was  secretly  steeped  in  what  he  would  have  ever 
felt  to  be  mortal  sin. 

So  Ellen  could  only  repeat  mournfully  the  absence  of 
any  hope  of  a  happy  ending  for  their  ill-starred  little 
romance.  They  settled  themselves  to  a  long  and  fruitless 
debate  of  their  luckless  situation,  discussed  its  unhappy 
phases  for  hours,  endlessly  traveling  about  in  a  maze  of 
words.  Ever  there  persisted  in  Ellen's  mind,  an  illusive 
hope  of  the  discovery  by  Philip  of  the  one  thread  which 
might  lead  them  out  of  their  labyrinth,  together  with  a 
crushing  certainty  that  if  he  could  seize  upon  this  thread, 
he  would  not  be  the  Philip  she  had  learned  to  know,  and 
to  love. 

The  long  evening  came  to  its  end,  with  Ellen's  original 
resolve  still  unconquered.  She  would  leave  Baltimore. 
She  would  speedily  put  her  affairs  in  order  and  find  work 
in  some  other  city.  She  was  not  strong  enough  to  deny 
his  plea  not  to  be  banished  from  her  side  during  her 
brief  weeks  of  preparation.  But  thereafter  there  should 
be  no  opportunities  for  vacillation  and  temptation.  She 
would  not  write  to  him  or  tell  him  where  she  might  be 
found.  The  separation  was  to  be  complete ;  but  when  the 
minute  came  for  Philip  to  say  good-night,  she  did  not 
withhold  her  eyes  or  her  lips  from  him,  and  as  Philip 
found  his  way  home  in  the  darkness,  he  was  conscious 
in  the  very  midst  of  his  woe,  of  a  curiously-illogical  sense 
of  sweetness  and  joy. 

254 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

DR.  FRANK'S  machine  was  waiting  at  his  door.  He 
had  bestowed  upon  his  wife,  his  children  and  his  dinner, 
an  unusually  generous  allotment  of  time,  and  he  was 
anxious  to  hurry  off  to  the  hospital  without  further  delay. 
In  fact,  he  had  already  drawn  on  his  heavy  driving  gloves 
and  turned  the  knob  of  the  street  door  when  a  feminine 
voice  from  the  library  called  gently — "  Robert !  " 

The  surgeon  turned  quickly.  "  Well,  Ruth,"  he  asked 
with  crisp  pleasantness,  "  anything  I  can  bring  you  ?  I'm 
off,  you  see." 

Ruth  stood  among  the  rich  hangings  of  the  library 
door  making  a  pretty  picture,  but  for  once,  apparently, 
too  deep  in  thought  to  be  conscious  of  her  effectiveness. 

"  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  Rob,"  she  said  gravely. 

He  nodded  affably. 

"  I  can  very  well  imagine  so,  my  dear  Ruth — Bess  says 
the  same  thing.  As  for  me,  I  want  to  look  at  you.  Mean 
while,  neither  of  us  can  have  what  we  want,  because  I 
have  an  engagement  to  look,  instead,  at  a  very  ugly  gentle 
man's  very  ugly  appendix." 

"  Please,  Robert,"  Ruth  murmured  with  a  compelling 
air  of  unusual  concern,  "  you  really  must  find  a  few  min 
utes  for  me — it's  important.  As  important,"  she  added, 
making  a  palpable  effort  not  to  seem  too  tragic,  "  as  any 
man's  appendix." 

"  Ah,"  he  smiled  with  superior  masculine  tolerance  of 
her  trifling  feminine  concerns,  "  a  lesion  of  some  woman's 
heart,  perhaps  ?  " 

•M 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

But  Ruth,  tense  and  anxious,  forgot  to  smile. 

"  Can't  I  see  you  now  ?  "  she  persisted. 

"  Not  now,"  he  replied,  "  this  is  urgent, — honest !  I'm 
late  now.  Tomorrow !  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Now !  "  she  demanded.  "  1\> 
morrow  something  else  will  be  urgent  and  I'll  miss  my 
chance  again." 

"  Is  it  my  fault  the  insides  of  the  people  in  this  town 
are  of  such  bad  quality  ?  "  he  inquired,  and  then  finding  no 
smiling  response  to  his  attempt  at  pleasantry,  he  straight 
way  concluded  she  must,  indeed,  be  in  genuine  trouble. 

"  Will  you  wait  up  for  me  ?  "  he  asked  kindly.  "  I'll  be 
back  about  eleven.  Will  that  be  time  enough  ?  Really,  I 
can't  stay  now." 

"I'll  wait,"  Ruth  answered.  "Thanks,  Robert— I 
hate  to  be  a  nuisance,  but " 

Robert  actually  thought  she  was  going  to  cry.  It 
seemed  an  absurd  thing  for  Ruth,  of  all  people,  to  do — 
besides,  in  spite  of  his  surgical  training,  he  hated  to  see 
women  cry — particularly  the  women  he  knew.  He  patted 
his  pretty  young  sister-in-law  on  the  shoulder,  with  such 
ill-concealed  desire  to  escape  before  the  storm  should 
break  that  he  did  succeed  in  getting  a  totally  unexpected 
smile  from  her  after  all. 

******* 

It  was  considerably  after  eleven  when  Robert  returned. 
He  had  found  more  things  to  be  done  than  he  had  ex 
pected,  and  he  presumed  that  Ruth,  whose  matter  couldn't 
have  been  so  vitally  urgent,  had  long  since  abandoned  hops 
of  him  and  gone  to  bed. 

He  entered  the  house  very  quietly,  and  noiselessly 
crossed  the  hallway  to  the  library  door.  All  the  lights 

256 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

in  the  room  had  been  extinguished  and  for  an  instant 
Robert  could  distinguish  nothing  by  the  glow  of  the  dim 
fire  in  the  grate.  Then  he  perceived  Ruth  nestled  in  one 
corner  of  a  great  arm-chair  before  the  hearth,  her  atti 
tude  one  of  complete  dejection.  Her  head  was  bowed  upon 
her  arms  and  Robert  was  once  more  seized  with  an 
alarmed  certainty  of  being  called  upon  to  deal  with  tears. 
He  laid  his  hand  gently  on  her  magnificent  dark  hair,  with 
the  tenderness  one  finds  so  much  more  spontaneous  when 
dealing  with  attractive  and  youthful  girl-relatives  than  in 
giving  counsel  to  far  more  deserving  great-aunts,  or  male 
kinsmen  of  any  age.  She  had  not  been  crying ;  she  wel 
comed  him  with  a  serious,  intent  smile  of  gratitude,  to  his 
mind  utterly  uncharacteristic  of  his  wife's  spoiled  sister. 

He  looked  down  upon  this  pretty  young  enigma,  and 
wondered  whether  it  would  be  wiser  to  try,  with  bantering 
words,  to  coax  her  back  into  her  accustomed  self-control, 
or  to  treat  her  problem,  whatever  it  might  be,  with  a  gravity 
corresponding  to  her  own.  It  was  the  latter  course  which 
he  adopted.  She  reached  up  and  took  the  hand  he  had  laid 
upon  her  head  and  held  it  tightly,  for  an  instant,  between 
both  of  her  own.  Such  expressions  of  affection  were 
not  frequent  with  Ruth ;  she  had  a  real  respect  and  fond 
ness  for  her  brother-in-law, — far  greater,  in  fact,  than  she 
bore  toward  her  own  sister.  Both  she  and  Robert  were 
aware  of  this,  but  it  was  rarely  that  her  feeling  for  him 
found  any  semblance  of  outward  expression.  Clearly, 
something  must  be  wrong  with  Ruth — and  very  wrong 
indeed. 

Robert  began  in  his  softest  and  most  sympathetic  voice 
— the  one  which  made  his  patients  and  his  students  his 
enthusiastic  slaves : 

17  257 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  You've  been  unhappy,  Ruth,  my  dear,  haven't  you  ?  " 

She  nodded  dumbly,  in  the  dim  light. 

"  Wretched,"  she  said  at  last,  when  she  found  he  was 
awaiting  some  response. 

Yet  her  existence  during  the  past  weeks  had  been  a 
feverish  round  of  gaieties.  He  could  remember  no  period 
When  she  had  been  so  constantly  immersed  in  such  a 
bewildering  succession  of  festivities.  Robert,  in  spite  of 
all  this  revelry,  had  not  failed  to  note  the  defection  of  the 
Rabbi,  and  he  went  on  to  ask  gently : 

"  Is  it  Philip  Graetz?" 

She  nodded  again,  and  there  was  another  interval  of 
silence. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  tell  me  what's  the  matter,  Ruth?  " 
he  urged,  once  more  caressing  her  hair  very  much  as 
though  she  had  been  one  of  his  children. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  looking  up  at  him  and  suddenly  shak 
ing  off  her  air  of  lassitude.  "  It's  this  strike !  At  least, 
that's  what  began  it.  It  made  him  utterly  miserable.  It 
seemed  to  disprove  all  he  preached.  You  remember  how 
tangled  his  thoughts  were,  the  night  you  talked  to  him 
about  it?  Well,  it  got  worse  with  him  instead  of  better, 
and  then  there  came  this  riot  at  the  factory  and  the  murder 
of  Rosen,  and  Philip  would  come  here  almost  every  night 
to  talk  things  over.  It  hurt  him  because  I  couldn't  see 
things  his  way,  and  of  course,  I  couldn't  lie  to  him." 

Either  Ruth  herself  saw  something  astonishing  in  this 
last  sentence,  or  she  thought  she  detected  in  Robert's  face 
an  expression  of  ill-concealed  mirth.  At  any  rate,  she 
interrupted  herself  to  ask  in  hurt  amazement : 

"  You're  not  laughing  at  me,  Robert  ?  You  couldn't 
be  laughing  at  me,  now  ?  " 

258 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

"  God  forbid,"  Robert  answered  hastily,  and  with  a 
kindness  greater  than  Ruth  could  have  hoped.  "  It's  all 
men  and  women  I'm  smiling  at,  Ruth,  and  myself,  most 
of  all.  Don't  you  suppose  I  can  still  remember  when  I 
thought  I  couldn't  lie  to  Bess.  And  now  I  think  I  can 
hardly  tell  her  the  Truth;  I  don't  even  know  what  it 
means.  It  takes  a  long  time  to  find  that  out,  and  then 
you're  sorry  you  know  it.  Now,  you  don't  know  any 
more  than  before  why  I  smiled,  but  you  know  I  wasn't 
laughing  at  you.  So  go  on  with  your  story." 

But  he  had  broken  the  thread  of  her  narrative  and 
she  struggled  unsuccessfully  to  begin  again.  He  came  to 
her  assistance. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  felt  you  had  to  show  him  all  your 
little  shades  of  thought  because  you  liked  him  so  much, 
and  you  wanted  him  to  understand  you,  and  he  didn't 
understand  one  bit,  and  at  last  he  decided  that  you  and 
Bess  and  I  were  all  pretty  much  like  our  dear  relative 
Clarence  Kaufman,  from  whom  we  get  a  good-sized  slice 
of  our  money.  Since  then  he's  stayed  away, — that's  about 
it,  isn't  it?" 

She  felt  he  had  made  her  intensely  important  story 
seem  sadly  commonplace.  Still,  he  had  certainly  guessed 
the  outlines  of  it. 

"  That's  about  it,"  she  repeated. 

"  Then  you've  been  giving  yourself  lots  of  trouble 
about  nothing,  my  dear  child,"  the  surgeon  decided,  cheer 
fully.  "  Even  a  man  with  a  genius  for  stirring  up  mis 
chief  like  our  dear  kinsman  can't  manage  to  keep  his 
strikes  alive  forever.  Some  day — pretty  soon,  now — 
this  one  will  come  to  an  end,  and  our  Jewish  Don  Quixote 
will  find  his  wind-mill  taken  away  from  him,  and  then, 

259 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

entirely  by  accident,  I'll  pick  him  up  some  afternoon  in 
my  machine,  as  he's  walking  home  from  the  University, 
and  drag  him  in  to  dinner.  That  night  you'll  be  prettier 
than  ever,  and  you'll  torment  him  unmercifully  for  all  the 
bother  he  gave  you,  till  he's  had  an  effectual  foretaste  of 
the  joys  of  marriage — after  which  you  will,  in  due  time, 
make  a  bewitching-looking  bride,  and  thereafter  live  about 
as  happily  as  a  Rabbi's  wife  has  any  right  to  expect." 

By  this  time  she  should  have  caught  the  contagion  of 
his  good  humor,  but  to  his  surprise,  his  words  seemed  to  be 
giving  her  pain  rather  than  joyousness. 

"  Ah !  "  she  whispered.  "  That's  what  I  have  been 
expecting  all  this  time — but  not  any  more !  There's  some 
body  else  now — another  woman !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  !  "  he  demanded  sharply. 

"  Never  mind,"  she  responded  with  a  furtive  expres 
sion,  which  told  Robert  she  had,  in  all  probability,  spied 
on  Philip  in  a  manner  of  which  she  was  not  too  proud 
"  I  do  know, — I'm  trusting  you  not  to  talk  about  this  to  a 
soul — not  even  to  Bess, — but  I've  seen  him  with  a  girl — 
not  even  a  Jewess,  a  working  woman  of  some  kind." 

Robert  still  maintained  his  exasperating  air  of  cheer 
ful  incredulity. 

"  Oh !  "  he  exclaimed,  dismissing  her  discovery  airily, 
"  some  chance  encounter,  no  doubt ;  a  mere  matter  of 
duty." 

Her  face  assumed  a  smile  of  sad  wisdom.  The  best 
and  wisest  of  men,  she  concluded,  were  but  blind,  childish 
creatures. 

"  I  saw  him  look  at  her,"  she  told  him  after  a  moment's 
silence.  "  There's  nothing  I  wouldn't  have  given  to  have 
him  look  at  me  like  that — but  he  never  did." 

260 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

Robert  made  a  gesture  of  impatient  vexation.  It 
would  be  easy  to  pretend  to  Ruth  an  utter  disbelief  in  her 
observations,  but  Ruth  was  not  the  girl  to  have  taken 
another  person — even  himself — into  her  confidence  with 
out  a  reasonable  certainty  of  an  actual  necessity.  He 
knew  her  well  enough  to  assume  definitely  that  she  had 
made  it  her  business  to  find  out  exactly  what  had  become 
of  the  man  for  whom  she  so  frankly  admitted  her  affec 
tion,  and  he  had  no  doubt  of  her  having  ferreted  out  much 
more  than  she  intended  to  tell. 

He  therefore  hastily  readjusted  his  ideas  to  meet  this 
more  serious  state  of  facts. 

"  Then  you  must  wait,  my  dear  Ruth,  till  he  comes 
back  to  his  senses,"  he  concluded.  "  Maybe  you'll  want 
him  then,  or  maybe  you  won't ;  but  the  final  decision  will 
be  in  your  hands.  If  the  girl's  not  a  Jewess,  whatever  else 
may  happen,  the  Rabbi  of  Beth  El  can't  marry  her." 

"  Oh ! "  Ruth  exclaimed,  "  but,  you  see,  you  don't 
know  Philip!  He's  different.  He's  the  sort  who  would 
ruin  himself  beyond  all  hope,  rather  than  confess  himself 
afraid  of  ruin." 

"  Well,  then,"  Robert  replied,  "  you  don't  want  to  be 
dragged  down  in  his  wreckage.  We  must  wait  to  see 
whether  he  can  save  himself.  If  he  can't " 

"  Then  I  must  save  him,"  Ruth  announced  as  though 
it  were  the  only  possible  solution  of  the  problem. 

"  You  mean,"  Robert  retorted,  "  you  mean  to  save 
him  for  yourself?" 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered  simply,  "  I  haven't  tried  to 
pretend  anything  else." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  want  him,  when  you  feel 
sure  he  wants  some  one  else,"  her  brother-in-law  urged 

261 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

with  as  much  of  reproach  in  his  words  as  one  could  use 
in  playing  Mentor  to  a  charming  girl  in  such  evident 
distress. 

"  That's  what  I  told  myself  at  first,"  she  confessed, 
"  but  the  truth  remains :  I  do  want  him.  No  matter  how 
he  feels,  I  want  him." 

Robert  shook  his  head  reprovingly. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  advise  you,  then,"  he  said ; 
"  even  if  I  didn't  believe  you  were  wrong,  I  wouldn't  know 
what  to  tell  you." 

"  I've  thought  of  a  plan,"  Ruth  confided.  "  I  want 
you  to  help  me,  only  you  mustn't  look  at  me  as  though 
I'd  shocked  you  beyond  all  repair.  What  makes  you  think 
women  ought  to  be  patient,  resigned  animals,  willing  to 
fold  their  hands  in  meek  submission  just  because  the  men 
they  happen  to  care  for  don't  know  how  to  take  care  of 
themselves  ?  It's  Philip's  good  I  want  as  much  as  my  own. 
You,  yourself,  called  his  action — ruin.  If  Bess  had  been 
anxious  to  run  off  with  some  disreputable  cad,  wouldn't 
you  have  fought  to  save  her  from  him — and  for  yourself? 
Why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

Robert  had  nothing  to  urge  against  her  vehemence 
save  the  conventional  prejudices  which  he  was  ashamed 
to  put  into  words,  but  to  which  he  was  none  the  less 
devotedly  attached. 

"  I  suppose  I'm  mediaeval,"  he  admitted ;  "  you  see  I 
married  before  the  days  when  girls  cut  their  teeth  on 
Bernard  Shaw  and  Ellen  Key.  So  you  mustn't  mind  if 
I  look  mildly  surprised  at  the  modern  attitude.  Don't 
mind  me,  my  dear.  I  mean  it,  really.  You  know,  if  I 
can  help,  you'll  make  me  do  it." 

"  You  can  help,"  she  told  him  with  an  impressiveness 

262 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

which  showed  how  carefully  she  had  rehearsed  her  plan. 
"  But  this  isn't  a  little  thing  I'm  going  to  ask.  It's  enor 
mous.  The  whole  trouble  began  with  this  strike.  It's  that 
which  turned  him  away  from  me.  It's  through  the  fac 
tory  I  must  get  him  back.  I  want  to  get  control  of  the 
Company  and  give  Philip  the  opportunity  to  settle  the 
strike  in  his  own  way.  It  would  mean  everything  to  him — 
not  only  because  of  the  reputation  he'd  gain — but  in  his 
own  mind,  too.  He  would  imagine  it  proved  the  force  of 
his  Religion.  He  could  never  desert  his  faith  after  -that ; 
nor  me,"  she  added  almost  in  a  whisper. 

Robert  stared  at  her  a  full  minute  without  a  word  of 
comment ;  then  he  said,  brutally : 

"  It  was  an  alienist  you  needed  to  consult — not  a 
surgeon." 

"  Robert !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  how  can  you  make  fun  of 
me  ?  Don't  you  see  I'm  suffering  enough  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  making  fun  of  you,"  he  answered  bluntly. 
"  I  think  your  scheme's  mad— or  something  worse.  I 
hate  to  hurt  you,  Ruth ;  you  know  I  do,  but  how  can  you 
plan  deliberately  to  buy  this  man  ?  That's  what  it  amounts 
to ;  you  mean  to  buy  him — body  and  soul !  Do  you  really 
want  him  at  such  a  price  ?  " 

She  faced  Robert  without  a  sign  of  flinching. 

"  Yes !  "  she  affirmed  boldly,  "  at  that  price  or  any  other 
price  I  must  pay.  Now  you  understand  why  I  must  be 
helped,  no  matter  what  you  may  think  of  me ! " 

The  surgeon  speedily  repressed  his  natural  impulse  to 
deliver  a  sharp  lecture,  setting  forth  the  limits  of  his  rather 
indulgent  theories  regarding  life  and  ethics.  Such  school 
room  methods  would  never  do  with  Ruth.  Besides,  why 
debate  the  morals  of  her  plot  when  it  could  so  easily  be 

263 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

proved  to  be  whimsically  impossible!  He  turned  his 
attention  to  an  analysis  of  its  impracticability. 

"  Well,  I'm  not  much  of  a  business  man,"  he  began 
patently  insinuating,  nevertheless,  an  insight  into  such 
affairs  far  superior  to  her  own,  "  but  it's  easy  to  see  how 
utterly  fantastic  your  scheme  is.  Even  if  a  fellow  had 
unlimited  money  to  play  with " 

She  broke  into  the  midst  of  his  objections  with  a 
sudden  burst  of  energy.  She  sprang  quickly  from  her 
chair,  and  flashing  on  the  full  blaze  of  lights,  pointed  to 
the  table,  saying  in  accents  of  competent  self-confidence: 

"  I've  got  it  all  worked  out.     Look  here !  " 

He  found  the  library  table  covered  with  neatly-ar 
ranged  lists  of  stockholders,  columns  of  tabulated  prices, 
and  mysterious  computations  of  all  kinds.  She  forced 
him  to  sit  down  to  a  study  of  this  mass  of  data,  and  seat 
ing  herself  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  began  rapidly  to  outline 
the  ways  and  means  of  accomplishing  her  design. 

"  If  you'll  look  over  these  papers  you'll  see  how  much 
stock  could  be  picked  up  in  the  open  market,"  she 
explained.  "  The  price  is  lower  today  than  ever  before, 
and  at  a  slight  advance  we  could  gather  in  more  than 
I've  counted  on.  Naturally,  the  cost  will  advance  as  we 
keep  on  buying,  but  not  very  much.  You'll  see  there 
just  how  much  we  could  get  and  what  the  total  expense 
would  amount  to.  Then,  there's  the  block  Bess  holds 
already,  and  my  own  shares,  and  Cousin  Fan's,  and  Cousin 
Leo's  and  all  the  rest  that's  in  the  family.  All  of  them, 
if  they  were  skilfully  handled,  would  turn  their  holdings 
over  to  another  member  of  our  own  family,  and  be  glad  to 
be  out  of  it.  Of  course,  they'd  have  no  idea  why  I  wanted 
it.  That  would  leave  us  with  only  a  shade  less  than  a 

264 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

majority.  I  know  where  I  could  get  a  hundred  shares 
from  two  of  the  directors,  and  then  I'd  need  just  a  tiny 
block  from  Uncle  Clarence  himself.  He  wouldn't  have 
an  inkling  of  how  near  the  edge  he  really  stood,  and  I'm 
certain,  I  could  wheedle  it  out  of  him,  particularly  if  I 
offered  him  a  girlishly  absurd  price.  You'll  find  it  all 
worked  out  here — with  every  possible  mischance  provided 
for." 

The  neat  rows  of  figures  danced  bewilderingly  before 
the  surgeon's  eyes.  He  had,  in  truth,  no  gift  for  the 
minutiae  of  business.  When  he  attempted  the  simplest 
task  in  addition  or  multiplication  his  result  was  invariably 
incorrect.  He  could  never  succeed  in  making  his  bank 
balance  tally  with  that  decided  upon  by  an  exasperatingly 
unimaginative  clerk.  He  blindly  invested  his  surplus 
earnings  in  implicit  faith,  as  commanded  by  an  inexorable 
tyrant  of  a  financier,  whose  unswerving  loyalty  he  had 
won  while  waging  on  the  old  man's  behalf  a  long  and 
successful  duel  with  Death.  In  return,  this  old  gentleman 
watched  over  Robert's  financial  welfare  as  though  he  had 
been  a  new-born  babe.  Therefore,  he  could  feel  only  a 
dizzy  sense  of  being  unequal  to  the  situation,  as  he  lost 
himself  among  the  maze  of  Ruth's  calculations.  He  could 
neither  admit  nor  dispute  the  soundness  of  her  deductions, 
because  to  attempt  either  would  have  been  to  confess  how 
incomprehensible  he  found  them,  but  his  common  sense 
told  him  two  vital  things  completely  disassociated  with  fig 
ures,  and  therefore,  within  the  grasp  of  his  understanding. 
The  first  was  the  certainty  of  a  magnificently-planned  cam 
paign  on  the  part  of  this  decorative  young  sister-in-law 
who  was  so  surprisingly  more  capable  than  she  allowed 
anyone  to  imagine. 

265 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  It's  odd "  he  mused,  "  how  unexpectedly  grand 
fathers  come  back  to  life !  " 

His  second  and  much  more  practical  thought  related 
to  the  absolute  certainty  of  the  colossal  cost  of  transform 
ing  her  hope  into  actuality. 

"  Um !  "  he  grunted  disgustedly,  "  such  an  entertain 
ment  as  this  is  a  sport  for  a  multi-millionaire !  " 

She  pointed  to  the  footing  on  one  of  the  long  sheets 
of  paper. 

"  That's  what  it  would  take,"  she  announced  seriously, 
"  perhaps  two  or  three  per  cent  less — certainly  no  more !  " 

The  total  there  set  forth  smote  him  with  a  feeling  of 
real  physical  pain. 

"  But  that's  a  fortune,  Ruth !  "  he  protested. 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted  quietly,  "  just  about  the  size  of 
Bess'— or  my  own.  Mine's  tied  up.  I  can't  get  at  it, 
or  I  wouldn't  have  bothered  you  at  all.  I  want  to  borrow 
Bess' — all  of  it.  If  anything  goes  wrong,  she  can  have 
every  dollar  of  mine  as  soon  as  I'm  old  enough  to  lay  my 
hands  on  it, — but  nothing  will  go  wrong !  " 

For  a  moment  he  was  too  completely  stupefied  by  the 
colossal  impudence  of  her  proposal  to  find  one  word  of 
answer.  Meanwhile,  she  made  haste  to  profit  by  his  silence. 

"  It  sounds  like  lunacy,  I  know,"  she  conceded,  "  but 
there's  really  no  risk  in  it  at  all.  When  the  strike  is  ended — 
no  matter  what  terms  Philip  decides  to  make — the  stock 
will  immediately  begin  to  rise.  No  one  will  be  able  to  tell 
so  soon,  whether  the  factory  will  earn  less  under  its  new 
agreements,  and  meanwhile,  production  is  bound  to  in 
crease.  Then  we'll  sell  all  our  holdings  as  speedily  as  we 
can  without  unsettling  the  market.  We'll  have  done  what 
we  wanted,  and  have  a  very  respectable  profit  besides." 

266 


THE  PRICE  OF  A  MAN 

"  And  when  the  next  strike  comes,  what  then  ?  "  asked 
Robert. 

"  By  that  time,"  Ruth  began  slowly — and  then  inter 
rupting  herself,  she  said  with  a  sudden  flush  of  embarrass 
ment,  "  after  I've  once  got  Philip,  I  shall  know  how  to  hold 
him — strikes  or  no  strikes.  I'm  not  worried  about  that." 

Robert  caught  his  breath  in  a  sharp  spasm  of 
amazement. 

"  Ruth !  Ruth !  "  he  said  reprovingly,  "  and  only  a  few 
weeks  ago  you  couldn't  find  it  in  your  heart  to  lie  to  him 
about  a  petty  shade  of  opinion." 

She  faced  Robert  defiantly. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  she  insisted,  "  I  can't  give  him  up ! 
I've  tried,  and  I  can't." 

He  drummed  absently  on  the  table  for  awhile  with  his 
fine  strong  fingers.  Then  he  looked  up  suddenly — sum 
marizing  her  demands : 

"  You  mean  then,  you  want  me,  for  purposes  which 
no  honest  man  could  approve,  to  advise  my  wife,  and  your 
sister,  to  risk  every  penny  she  has  in  the  world !  " 

She  had  been  preparing  to  meet  and  repulse  his  attack. 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to  advise  her,"  she  urged,  "  I  only 
want  you  to  let  her  make  her  own  decision,  without  any 
interference  from  you.  I'll  attend  to  Bess.  There  isn't 
any  risk,  I  tell  you, — and  if  there  were  a  total  loss,  my 
word  is  good ;  you  know  it  is.  I'll  pay  back  every  penny 
— the  day  I'm  thirty.  Money's  no  good  to  me  if  I  can't 
have  what  I  want.  In  the  meantime,  what  do  you  care? 
You  make  every  year  more  than  you  can  dream  of  spend 
ing,  and  you  always  will.  Besides,  there's  my  own  income. 
Bess  can  have  that.  I'm  past  caring  about  dollars  and 
cents." 

267 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Robert  was  not  in  the  mood  for  smiling,  as  he  would 
normally  have  done,  at  the  thought  of  this  luxury-loving 
Ruth  in  the  grip  of  drab  poverty. 

He  answered  impulsively : 

"  You  know  perfectly  well,  with  me,  it's  not  a  question 
of  money." 

"  I  know,"  she  agreed  without  the  trace  of  a  mental 
reservation.  Robert  had  never  felt  the  slightest  lack  of 
money,  and  perhaps  this  was  why  his  attitude  toward  it 
was  almost  contemptuous.  "  I  know,"  she  repeated. 

"  But  waiving  the  right  and  wrong  of  what  you  mean 
to  do,"  he  went  on,  "  and  the  treachery  toward  Clarence 
and  the  rest  of  your  family,  which  you  seem  to  have 
ignored  altogether " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  as  though  to  signify  the 
absurdity  of  his  insistence  on  trifles  such  as  these. 

"  Even  then,"  he  concluded,  "  it  isn't  my  money  for 
which  you're  asking.  It's  Bess',  and  she  has  a  right  to 
my  true  opinion.  If  you  wanted  my  own  savings — every 
bit  of  them — for  something  I  approved,  you  know  per 
fectly  well  you  could  have  them." 

She  nodded.  "Of  course!  but  they  wouldn't  be 
enough,"  she  said  impatiently,  telling  him  without  need 
for  further  comment,  how  much  weight  she  was  giving  to 
his  discourse  about  scruples. 

"  It's  the  simplest  way,"  she  informed  him  at  last, 
as  though  bent  on  making  him  understand  she  must  gain 
her  end,  with  or  without  his  help.  "If  you  make  up  your 
mind  to  throw  obstacles  in.  my  path,  you'll  merely  force 
me  to  do  something  you'd  like  much  less — you  and  Bess, 
too,  for  that  matter !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  Robert  snapped  out,  wondering 

268 


what  new  vistas  were  still  to  be  disclosed  to  him  in  the 
mind  of  this  baffling  young  girl,  who  had  lived  all  these 
years  in  his  home,  and  shown  him  so  little  of  her  inexor 
able  will. 

"  Arthur  Kahn  would  do  this  bit  of  work  for  me  if  I 
asked  him  to,  and  promised  him  his  pay,"  she  murmured, 
twisting  her  lips  into  a  smile  which  her  brother-in-law 
found  strange,  and  absolutely  repulsive. 

"  But  what  possible  benefit  could  you  get  out  of  that  if 
you  really  promised  to  marry  Kahn  ?  "  was  Robert's  won 
dering  query. 

The  ugly  and  unfamiliar  smile  still  persisted. 

"  Promises — engagements  to  marry — have  been  broken 
before  this,"  she  answered.  "  I  could  make  him  break 
it  myself — Hate  can  always  find  a  way !  " 

The  surgeon  was  genuinely  and  profoundly  shocked. 

"  I  think,"  he  thundered,  "  I  ought  to  go  straight  to 
Clarence  Kaufman  and  warn  him  of  what  you  intend." 

Her  laugh  was  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  hear. 

"  Which  of  us  do  you  suppose  he'd  believe — you,  who 
have  always  treated  him  with  such  awe  and  reverence— or 
Arthur  Kahn  and  myself  ?  " 

He  shrank  away  from  her  in  genuine  distaste  and  dis 
gust,  but  with  a  sudden  change  of  mood  and  expression, 
she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  looked  into  his  face  with 
eyes  which  were  brimming  with  tears. 

"  Rob!  Rob ! "  she  begged,  "  can't  you  understand  I'm 
desperate?  I  can't  sit  still  and  see  my  chance  for  happi 
ness  snatched  away.  Don't  stop  being  good  to  me,  Rob, 
just  because  I'm  unhappy  enough  to  clutch  at  anything! 
Help  me !  Don't  you  see  it's  because  I  love  him !  " 

269 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

The  surgeon,  with  awkward  little  caresses,  tried  his 
best  to  comfort  her 

At  length,  he  said  wearily,  as  he  led  her  to  the  door : 

"  Well,  well — try  not  to  worry  any  more.  I'll  talk  to 
Bess  about  it  in  the  morning." 

She  roused  herself  quickly  to  a  well  reasoned  com 
mand  of  herself  and  him. 

"  iNo,"  she  ordered,  "  not  a  word — let  me  talk  to  Bess 
first!" 

He  had  not  spirit  to  begin  the  controversy  all  over 
again,  and  made  a  mute  sign  of  acquiescence. 

As  he  found  his  noiseless  way  up  the  dark  staircase 
to  his  wife's  room,  he  was  thinking  in  a  puzzled  fashion 
to  himself : 

"  Now,  this  Graetz  chap  seems  to  be  a  pretty  decent 
sort  in  a  way,  but  why  the  devil  should  any  woman  want 
him  enough  for  all  that!  Ruth,  too!  above  all  others! 
It  certainly  must  be  hell  to  be  a  woman !  " 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

RUTH  slept  but  little  during  the  night  following  her 
disturbing  discussion  with  Robert,  and  as  she  nodded  to 
her  reflected  image  in  her  mirror  next  morning,  she  smiled 
at  the  little  tell-tale  marks  of  fatigue  and  anxiety,  with 
much  the  same  appreciation  as  a  noted  actress  might  ex 
hibit  after  having  evolved  an  exceptionally  clever  stroke  in 
her  "  make-up."  In  a  becomingly  subdued  morning  negli 
gee,  she  looked  the  exact  part  she  was  about  to  enact  when 
she  should  creep  into  her  sister's  room.  Sitting  on  the 
edge  of  her  bed  while  Bess  sipped  her  coffee  and  nibbled  at 
her  roll,  she  would  make  of  her  a  whole-souled,  devoted 
ally.  Bess  would  be  much  easier  to  manage  than  Robert 
had  been.  There  was  a  gleam  of  excitement  in  the  girl's 
eyes,  but  she  never  seriously  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  failing  to  mold  her  indulgent  sister  to  her  will. 

Nor  was  her  confidence  misplaced.  An  hour  later, 
Ruth,  more  than  ever  spent  and  unstrung,  but  com 
pletely  triumphant,  emerged  from  Bess'  room  and  walked 
to  the  telephone.  She  lifted  the  receiver  from  its  hook 
but  replaced  it  again  without  calling  for  a  number.  A 
note  would  be  better,  after  all,  she  concluded.  It  would 
save  Philip  from  the  exhibition  of  an  embarrassment 
which  he  would  unconsciously  resent,  after  the  manner  of 
men.  Besides,  it  would  leave  him  no  opportunity  for 
evasion  or  excuse.  So  she  carefully  penned  a  most  artful 
little  letter,  telling  him  simply,  but  with  a  latent  quality 
of  mystery,  of  her  discovery  of  a  circumstance  which 

271 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

could  be  made  of  inestimable  value  to  his  own  ministry, 
and  to  the  entire  Jewish  community.  Though  it  could  not 
safely  be  committed  to  writing,  she  would  vouch,  unhesi 
tatingly,  for  his  interest  in  its  details.  It  was  the  very 
thing  for  which  he  had  been  seeking.  She  would  there 
fore  hope  to  see  him  that  evening  between  eight  and  nine, 
and  in  the  event  of  his  having  some  prior  engagement,  she 
would  detain  him  for  only  the  briefest  possible  interval 
of  time. 

There  was  much  of  thought  and  a  little  deliberate 
cruelty  concealed  between  the  lines  of  this  innocent-look 
ing  note.  It  would  perhaps  have  been  more  business-like 
to  have  waited  until  her  plan  for  the  seizure  of  control 
of  the  Pioneer  Company  had  been  consummated,  before 
mentioning  the  subject  to  the  Rabbi.  Ruth,  however,  had 
her  own  ideas  relating  to  the  way  of  a  man  with  a  maid, 
and  the  possible  complications  which  might  develop1  within 
a  single  brief  hour  of  uninterrupted  love  making.  Even 
now,  her  interference  might  come  too  late,  and  she  deter 
mined  he  should  never  again  see  this  objectionable  woman 
without  the  definite  thought  in  his  mind  of  the  work  he 
could  certainly  accomplish,  in  the  immediate  future,  pro 
vided  his  movements  were  unhampered  by  a  compromising 
affection  for  this  unsuitable  girl. 

She  might  also  have  granted  him  an  interview  in  the 
late  afternoon  had  she  wished,  but  it  was  her  premedi 
tated  desire  to  interfere,  if  she  could,  with  his  plans  for 
an  evening  which  she  felt,  instintcively,  revolved  around 
this  mysterious  woman.  He  could  not  refuse  to  come ;  she 
had  stressed  too  insistently  the  call  of  duty,  and  concealed 
too  thoroughly  any  personal  interest.  And  besides,  what 
she  had  written  expressed  the  exact  shade  of  dignity  she 

272 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

wished  to  display,  without  a  perceptible  shadow  of  of 
fended  pique.  Ruth  was,  on  the  whole,  exceeding  well- 
pleased  with  her  composition.  She  summoned  a  servant, 
bade  him  deliver  the  letter  to  Philip  in  person,  and  there 
after,  with  a  wise  realization  that  her  pallor  and  languor, 
while  eminently  suitable  for  an  interview  with  Bess,  were 
the  exact  opposite  of  what  would  be  needed  when  Philip 
should  arrive,  she  returned  to  her  own  room,  and  slept 
soundly  until  late  in  the  afternoon.  If  her  forceful  grand 
father  had  indeed  returned  to  earth,  he  seemed  in  no  hurry 
to  vanish  once  more  into  the  land  of  shades. 

The  first  of  her  calculations  proved  unerring.  Her 
summons  threw  the  Rabbi  into  a  state  of  uncomfortable 
vexation,  flavored,  nevertheless,  with  a  compelling  curios 
ity.  Ellen  was  in  the  throes  of  plans  for  departure.  Her 
determination,  to  tear  up  their  compaiXionjship  by  the 
roots  had  not  wavered,  and  their  hours  together  were  filled 
for  each  of  them  with  a  mingled  sweetness  and  misery 
which  left  them  unnerved  and  sorrowful.  Still,  neither  of 
them  was  willing  to  forego  one  minute  of  these  precious 
evenings.  Above  all  things,  Philip  would  have  wished  to 
avoid  Ruth,  particularly  now  when  his  heart  was  sore 
with  the  burden  of  a  thousand  comparisons  and  empty 
reflection^  upon  the  absurd  incongruities  between  the 
things  we  want  and  the  things  we  can  obtain.  But  Ruth's 
letter  left  him  no  possible  alternative.  No  matter  what  he 
might  endure,  he  could  not  altogether  ignore  the  voice  of 
Duty.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  save  to  send  Ellen 
a  word  of  explanation  and  a  promise  to  come  to  her  later 
in  the  evening,  and  to  present  himself  duly  at  Ruth's  home. 

His  pretty  hostess  received  him  with  a  charming  gra- 
ciousness  which  was  subtly  designed  to  put  her  visitor  at 

273 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

ease.  She  had  spared  no  pains  to  appear  at  her  best, 
and  in  her  conversation  also,  she  skilfully  avoided  all  dan 
gerous  places.  She  was  guilty  of  no  crude  reproaches 
regarding  his  prolonged  absence,  nor  did  she  imply,  even 
faintly,  having  languished  unhappily  under  the  shadow  of 
his  neglect.  She  was  cordial  but  not  effusive;  since,  to 
ignore  altogether  the  unexplained  break  in  their  relations 
would  have  been  too  marked  an  insincerity,  she  said  with 
apparent  simple  frankness  that  she  had  understood  per 
fectly  how  troubled  he  had  been  by  this  strike  at  the 
Pioneer  factory,  and  how  natural  she  thought  it  that 
he  should  have  come  to  find  his  frequent  visits  to  her  home 
a  source  of  misconstruction  and  embarrassment. 

In  this  manner  she  relieved  him  of  the  entire  burden 
of  the  explanations  and  apologies  he  had  dreaded,  and  then 
without  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  commit  himself  to 
any  polite  falsehood,  of  which  he  might  later  have  re 
pented,  and  for  which  he  would  doubtless  have  proceeded 
to  blame  her,  she  plunged  at  once  into  the  reason  for 
tonight's  conference. 

"  It's  because  of  this  labor  war,  of  course,"  she  in 
formed  him.  "  I've  spent  ever  so  many  hours  thinking 
about  it,  and  what  you  have  said  about  it  I  suppose  it's 
hard  for  me  to  see  all  these  questions  in  your  detached, 
clear  manner ;  but  I'm  certain  you're  right,  after  all,  and 
I  believe  things  ought  to  be  arranged  by  some  one  like 
yourself  whose  only  interest  is  in  doing  justice  to  both 
sides." 

He  fancied  then,  he  had  been  summoned  merely  to  hear 
her  recantation,  and  behind  his  courteous  protestations  of 
pleasure  in  her  acceptance  of  his  views,  there  was  a  huge 
element  of  annoyance  at  this  wasted  time  he  could  have 
spent  to  so  much  better  advantage. 

274 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

She  hurried  on,  however,  to  the  climax  she  had  in 
store  for  him. 

"  Of  course,  your  own  point  of  view  is  unchanged?  " 
she  asked.  "  You  still  want  to  bring  to  bear  on  the  prob 
lem  the  power  of  Religion  and  of  Jewish  Ethics  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  repeated,  "  I've  made  all  kinds  of 
attempts  to  do  this.  I  spent  an  evening  with  Mr.  Kauf 
man  last  week  in  the  effort  to  persuade  him  to  let  me  settle 
the  trouble.  I  found  him  absolutely  unresponsive." 

She  leaned  forward  in  her  chair  in  an  attitude  of  eager 
solicitude. 

"  I  knew  that,"  she  told  him.  "  I  think  it  was  that 
which  sharpened  my  wits,  and  now  I've  found  a  way  to 
give  you  the  opportunity  to  bring  the  strike  to  an  end, 
upon  whatever  terms  you  think  fair." 

The  air  of  well-bred,  but  unexcited,  interest  he  had 
hitherto  worn  dropped  from  him,  and  he  stared  at  the  girl 
in  startled  amazement. 

"  I — I  don't  think  I  quite  understand,"  he  stammered. 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  she  said  happily,  "  only  it 
must  be  a  dark,  deep  secret  for  a  week  or  two,  between  the 
two  of  us.  That's  understood,  isn't  it?  " 

She  had  already  begun  to  weave  about  him  the  web  of 
a  hundred  threads  of  common  interests  and  important 
confidences. 

"Of  course,"  he  answered  impatiently. 

"  Well,  then,"  she  explained,  "  the  whole  idea  is  really 
perfectly  simple.  I  only  wonder  neither  of  us  thought  of  it 
before.  I'm  going  to  buy  a  controlling  interest  in  the  fac 
tory.  When  I  get  it,  you  won't  find  me  as  unresponsive  as 
LJincle  Clarence.  I  shall  want  you  to  see  the  people  on 
the  other  side,  find  out  just  what  they  ought  to  have,  and 
promise  it  to  them." 

275 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

In  one  swift  instant,  the  whole  effect  upon  his  life  of 
such  a  programme  became  clear  to  Philip.  It  was  a  colos 
sal  opportunity — not  only  for  himself,  but  for  the  men  and 
women  who  fed  their  hard-driven  lives  into  the  hungry 
maw  of  the  garment  making  machines ;  a  victory  for  his 
Religion,  too,  whose  power  in  the  turmoil  of  the  market 
place,  he  himself,  had  almost  begun  to  doubt.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  committed  him  forever  to  his  faith,  and  it 
severed  him,  forever,  from  Ellen.  Only  as  a  Jew  and  a 
Rabbi,  could  his  domination  of  this  huge  hive  of  industry 
be  made  significant.  Only  as  an  experiment  in  Socialized 
Judaism,  could  its  success  mean  anything  more  than  a 
mere  truce  in  the  endless  antagonismof  Capital  and  Labor. 
Then  there  was  Ruth  herself,  this  unthinking,  care-free 
girl,  who  was  blithely  planning  to  stake  a  fortune  upon  his 
devotion  to  the  cause  he  had  so  of  ten  voiced  in  fiery  words. 
How  was  he  to  deal  with  her?  It  was  this  last  thought 
which  first  found  expression  in  words. 

"What  made  you  decide  to  do  such  a  tremendous 
thing,  Ruth  ?  "  he  demanded  breathlessly. 

"  It  was  your  sermons,  Philip.  Somehow  they  made 
me  feel  I  had  to  help !  "  murmured  this  girl,  who  only  a 
month  or  two  ago  had  been  burning  with  a  passion  to  lay 
bare  before  him  each  of  her  little  weaknesses  and  sins ! 
And,  even  now,  her  spirit  raged  within  her  at  what  she 
was  doing ;  but  she  had  tried  truth  and  nobility,  and  they 
had  failed  her,  while  the  devious  windings  she  now  trod 
promised  her  all  she  asked  of  life.  She  would  atone  some 
how  !  She  would  become  the  thing  she  now  pretended ; 
but  no  matter  what  might  happen,  she  would  not  go  on 
with  living,  empty-handed. 

If  she  had  told  the  truth  to  her  minister,  whose  task  it 
276 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

was  to  love  erring  human  nature  all  the  more  because  of 
its  pitiable  shortcomings,  he  would  have  turned  from 
her  in  disgust.  As  it  was,  he  could  only  look  into  her 
shining  eyes,  touched  and  saddened  by  her  sweet  faith, 
and  unquestioning  willingness  to  place  all  her  dower  of 
wealth  and  opportunity  into  his  hands  to  be  used  to  bring 
balm- to  the  pain  and  fever  of  a  suffering  World. 

"Aren't  you  glad?  "  she  asked  suddenly,  "  I  thought  it 
would  make  you  happy — as  happy  as  it  does  me !  " 

"  It  makes  me  solemn,"  he  responded,  and  in  truth  it 
did.  "  I  shall  need  to  be  wiser  and  better  than  I  know 
how,  not  to  fall  short  of  what  you've  a  right  to  demand." 

"  No !  no !  "  she  insisted  gaily,  "  you  musn't  think  of 
it  like  that !  Remember  all  these  poor  silly  creatures  who 
only  ask  to  be  treated  fairly ;  and  that's  the  very  thing — 
the  only  thing — you,  with  the  power  in  your  hands,  will 
want.  You'll  find  it  a  kind  of  triumph — not  only  for  your 
self — but  for  everything  you  believe  in.  It  will  be  wonder 
ful, — almost  like  a  sacrament !  " 

She  was  speaking  his  own  language  to  him-,  binding 
around  him  the  weight  of  an  obligation  he  knew  not  how 
to  refuse,  and  yet  his  thoughts  were  tossed  about  in  a  very 
tempest  of  misgivings  and  despair.  What  would  this  gen 
erous  girl  feel  if  she  couldknowthe  price  she  was  wringing 
from  him?  If  only  Ellen  could  have  been  able  to  hold  out 
to  him  such  hopes,  to  mingle  the  gift  of  herself  with  such  a 
boundless  fulfillment  of  his  dearest  ambitions !  But  now, 
more  than  ever,  to  cleave  to  the  woman  he  loved  would 
brand  him  as  a  renegade  of  the  most  despicable  type — 
false  not  merely  to  a  cause  or  a  creed,  but  to  the  possibility 
of  a  unique  service  to  man  and  to  God. 

Ruth  understood  too  well  the  perils  of  anti-climax  to 

277 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

risk  detaining  him  much  longer;  she  repressed,  without 
pity,  her  own  insistent  longing  for  an  evening  full  of  joy 
ous  personalities,  and  pleading  another  engagement  of 
long  standing,  she  sent  him  away.  She  commanded  him,  to 
proceed  to  work  the  very  next  day,  guarding,  however,  with 
the  most  jealous  care  the  secret  of  the  method  by  which 
he  intended  to  put  into  effect  whatever  compromise  he 
might  agree  upon.  Those  with  whom  he  discussed  terms 
might  suppose  him  to  be  an  emissary  of  Kaufman,  or  an 
impecunious  free  lance  with  a  blind  belief  in  his  persuasive 
power  to  induce  the  acceptance  of  just  conditions — or  they 
might  believe  whatever  they  chose,  so  long  as  they  had 
no  inkling  of  the  actual  plot.  Such  publicity  would,  of 
course,  have  made  her  project  impossible.  She  realized 
perfectly  well  the  danger  to  which  she  was  exposing  her 
delicately-adjusted  scheme  by  sending  the  Rabbi  thus  pre 
maturely,  to  learn  the  real  sentiments  of  the  representatives 
of  the  workers.  She  was,  however,  much  more  interested 
in  her  plans  for  the  recapture  and  complete  subjugation  of 
Philip  than  in  the  actual  termination  of  the  strike,  and 
she  was  only  too  cognizant  of  the  urgency  of  compelling 
his  interest  and  enlisting  his  personal  loyalty,  without  one 
instant's  further  delay. 

As  Ruth  reviewed  her  evening's  work,  after  Philip  had 
gone,  she  found  no  difficulty  in  justifying  to  herself  each 
step  she  had  so  successfully  trodden.  For  awhile,  he 
would  be  unhappy,  of  course;  Ruth  was  genuinely  con 
cerned  about  that ;  with  all  the  force  of  her  strong  young 
nature  she  wished  she  could  have  been  given  the  task  to 
calm,  this  night,  his  restless  misery,  and  soothe  his  pain ; 
but  she  repeated  to  herself  how  surely  she  was  doing  for 
Philip  precisely  what  was  best  for  him.  She  was  saving 

278 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

his  reputation  and  his  promising  career  from  irreparable 
ruin.  At  the  same  time,  to  ease  his  heartache,  she  was 
giving  him  the  work  he  loved  to  do,  and  in  the  future  she, 
herself,  would  compensate  him  a  thousand  times  over,  for 
all  she  had  taken  from  him.  She  would  make  this  man  for 
whom  she  had  been  willing  to  fight,  happy  beyond  all 
imaginings.  She  smiled  to  herself  as  she  thought  of  the 
myriads  of  delicious  joys  she  would  shower  upon  him. 

For  the  unknown  woman  who  was  also,  perhaps,  to 
suffer  as  the  result  of  this  night's  work,  Ruth  had  nothing 
save  cold,  contemptuous  hatred.  It  was  not  like  Philip, 
she  told  herself,  to  have  drifted,  without  expert  guidance, 
into  such  an  ugly  situation.  The  woman,  no  doubt,  was 
thoroughly  bad,  and  diabolically  artful.  Ruth  made  no 
effort  to  conceal  from  herself  her  hope  that  the  woman's 
share  of  the  anguish  might  be  keen  and  bitter,  though  she 
decided  regretfully  upon  the  improbability  of  such  a  result. 
Of  course,  this  Christian  girl  could  not  really  care  about 
him ;  she  was  merely  amusing  herself,  ministering  to  her 
vanity,  taking  a  Christian's  pride  in  humiliating  and  tor 
turing  a  Jew.  Ruth  hated  her  frankly  and  with  a  self- 
righteous,  satisfying  hate.  The  woman  had  been  bent  on 
making  as  much  mischief  as  she  could ;  she  had  already 
done  her  share.  As  Ruth  remembered  the  total  wreck  of 
all  the  pleasant,  self-satisfying  illusions  she  had  formerly 
cherished  regarding  her  own  character,  as  she  thought 
of  the  ugly  tissue  of  treachery  she  had  set  herself  to  spin, — 
of  the  depths  of  depravity  into  which  this  woman's 
wanton  cruelty  had  forced  her, — depravity  so  dire  as  to 
have  caused  even  kind-hearted,  tolerant  Robert  to  think  of 
her  conduct  as  repulsive — she  charged  each  one  of  her 
own 'desperate  impulses  to  the  score  of  this  Ellen  she  had 

279 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

never  met,  and  could  imagine  no  punishment  too  ferocious 
to  be  inflicted  upon  her. 

While  Ruth  sat  in  her  dainty  room  alternately  giving 
herself  up  to  thoughts  of  the  tenderest  love  and  the  most 
ruthless  revenge,  Ellen  in  her  bare,  ugly  boarding  house, 
waited  in  vain,  far  into  the  night,  for  Philip's  coming. 
For  the  first  time  he  had  failed  her.  He  had  chosen  to 
forego  one  of  the  last  of  the  few  poor  meetings  which  lay 
between  them  and  a  silence  which  was  never  to  be  broken. 
Philip  had  made  his  way  almost  unconsciously  from  the 
Frank  home  towards  the  house  on  Dolphin  Street  where 
he  knew  Ellen  would  be  waiting  to  welcome  him ;  but  when 
he  was  nearly  opposite  her  door,  he  had  found  himself 
unable;  to  enter,  and  had  continued  aimlessly  to  wander 
toward  the  center  of  the  City. 

He  was  in  a  fever  of  unrest,  which  he  found  himself 
equally  incapable  of  understanding  or  controlling.  Ellen 
was  going  away.  He  was  not  to  follow  her — now  or  later ; 
that  had  been  determined  upon  and  presumably  accepted 
as  inevitable.  Why  then  should  be  be  moved  to  such 
unutterable  anguish  by  a  happening,  the  only  effect  of 
which  was  to  set  the  seal  of  certainty  upon  Ellen's 
resolve  ?  Had  he,  after  all,  been  clinging  to  some  vague, 
unexpressed  hope  that  at  the  very  last,  human,  weakness 
would  prove  stronger  than  sage  expediency?  Had  this 
been  the  secret  of  the  mysterious  happiness  he  had  found 
with  Ellen,  even  in  the  midst  of  their  sorrow?  Had  he 
expected  her  to  relent  and  remain,  or  did  he  foresee,  at 
the  end,  a  reckless  snapping  of  his  own  bonds  and  a  fiery 
insistence  on  setting  forth  with  her — no  matter  what 
should  be  the  consequence  to  his  work,  his  faith,  or 
himself  ? 

280 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

He  did  not  know.  He  only  knew  he  had  this  night  been 
called  to  embark  upon  a  task  which  was,  for  him  at  least, 
as  intimately  linked  with  his  Judaism  and  his  Rabbinate 
as  the  soul  is  wedded  to  the  body.  If  he  accepted  his 
duty  he  must  do  it  as  the  preacher  of  the  faith  of  Israel. 
If  now,  or  at  any  time  hereafter,  he  should  desire  to  brave 
the  scorn  and  reproaches  of  his  own  people,  he  would  be 
tossing  away  his  golden  opportunity  to  establish  God's 
peace  and  justice  in  the  hum  of  the  busy  factory,  as  well  as 
in  the  hush  of  the  stately  synagogue.  Somehow,  by  what 
means  he  could  not  know — he  might  find  it  possible  to 
avoid  entangling  himself  with  Ruth,  but  Ellen  would  be 
lost  to  him  beyond  all  hope,  as  surely  as  though  he  had 
imprisoned  himself  within  monastery  walls. 

Well,  then,  he  thought,  as  he  walked  wearily  on 
through  the  cold  electric  brilliance  of  Baltimore  Street, 
suppose  he  were  to  obey  the  call  of  his  surging  pulses,  and 
forget  this  austere,  unsatisfying  ideal  of  Duty,  which  made 
more,  and  ever  more,  insatiable  demands  upon  the  man 
who  chose  to  give  himself  to  the  service  of  others,  but 
dared  still  to  hope  for  some  poor  crumbs  of  happiness  for 
himself.  Eventually,  the  strike  would  end  without  him. 
If  Religion  meant  what  he  believed,  did  it  really  depend  on 
the  strength  of  his  frail  arm  and  the  melody  of  his  faint 
voice  ?  The  world  was  teeming  with  problems  too  knotty 
for  his  bewildered  brain;  was  it  not  presumptuous  for 
him  to  imagine  they  would  go  unsolved  if  he  turned  aside 
from  their  consideration?  Who  was  he,  to  be  sure  of 
God's  purposes  ?  What  is  best  for  Man  is  a  thing  shrouded 
in  mystery.  Of  only  one  thing  could  he  be  sure.  There 
was  a  woman  whom  he  wanted — wanted  with  all  his  soul 
and  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his  might,  and  he  was 

281 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

about  to  lose  her  because  of  some  nebulous,  ill-defined 
thing  called  Duty,  which  might,  in  the  end,  prove  only  a 
delusion  and  a  snare. 

By  this  time  the  Rabbi's  unguided  steps  were  leading 
him,  with  the  certainty  of  movement  of  a  somnambulist, 
unerringly  to  the  Jewish  East  Side  Quarter,  and  to  the 
corner  where  he  and  Ellen  had  first  met,  only  a  few  weeks 
before.  He  looked  up  suddenly,  and  with  a  start  of  sur 
prise,  recognized  the  spot.  How  much  struggle,  pain  and 
joy  he  had  lived  through  since  that  afternoon  only  a  little 
while  ago — as  men  measure  time,  crudely,  with  clocks  and 
calendars. 

Why  should  he  not  drink  to  the  dregs  the  cup  already 
at  his  lips  ?  The  God  who  had  created  him  in  this  guise, 
and  filled  his  soul  with  these  fierce  yearnings  for  a  per 
sonal  happiness,  must  have  known  what  was  to  be  the 
result  of  the  elements  He  had  chosen  to  blend  in  his 
making!  Was  it  not  a  form  of  Atheism  thus  to  contend, 
with  his  man-made,  little  scruples,  against  the  force 
of  God? 

It  was  now  long  after  midnight.  The  squalid  street  was 
dingy  and  deserted.  As  the  minister  stood  there,  aching 
with  the  intensity  of  the  warfare  being  waged  in  his  tired 
brain,  he  tried  in  vain  to  feel  the  claims  upon  him  of  his 
sleeping  brethren  who  lay  huddled  together  in  desolate, 
spirit-quenching  poverty  behind  these  forbidding  walls 
which  rose  up  out  of  the  dark,  round  about  him  on  every 
side.  He  had  come  to  these  people  in  sunnier  hours  and 
they  had  treated  him  as  an  alien — as  more  of  an  alien  than 
Ellen.  He  had  yearned  to  pour  out  the  richness  of  his  life 
and  his  learning  in  loving  service  and  they  had  met  him 
with  contemptuous  indifference.  It  would  always  be  so.  He 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

would  never  find  among  them  sympathy  or  even  compre 
hension  ;  and  it  was  for  these  creatures  who  scorned  him 
that  he  was  to  'give  up  the  best  of  life ;  he  was  to  offer 
himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  men  and  women  who  would  not 
even  know  of  his  deed ! 

In  the  midst  of  his  musings,  the  sharp,  discordant  cry 
of  an  infant  smote  his  ear.  Its  sound  was  slightly  muffled 
— the  windows  on  all  sides  being  tightly  sealed,  in  defiance 
of  all  the  precepts  of  hygiene  so  glibly  mouthed  by  fortu 
nate  individuals  to  whom  each  fragment  of  coal  does  not 
present  a  problem  in  finance.  This  infant's  despairing, 
desolate  wail  set  the  Rabbi's  tense  nerves  aquiver.  In  all 
likelihood  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  the  child,  but 
it  cried  as  though  its  sufferings  were  cruel  beyond  all 
endurance,  and  as  if,  in  all  the  world,  there  was  no  one 
to  comprehend  its  despair.  Philip  walked  hastily  away 
and  did  not  pause  until  he  could  no  longer  hear  its  sob 
bing.  Then  he  stood  still,  but  he  could  not  rid  his  imagina 
tion  of  the  fancied  sound  of  the  childish  weeping.  He 
imagined  some  little  waif  crying,  in  an  agony  of  pain  and 
dread,  in  the  darkness  with  no  one  to  hearken  to  his  call 
or  to  comfort  his  tiny,  frightened  soul.  The  thought 
straightway  flashed  into  Philip's  morbid  mind  of  the  sym 
bolical  character  of  the  baby's  cry.  His  people,  too,  were 
calling  to  him  out  of  the  darkness.  They  were  in  anguish 
and  in  terror.  The  things  they  craved  were  perhaps  no 
better  suited  to  their  needs  than  the  demands  of  a  sick 
child.  The  aid  he  was  able  to  bring,  might  be  worse  than 
useless,  but  they  were  weeping  and  in  despair  and  he  who 
had  promised  to  live  and  die  for  their  welfare  had  been 
about  to  desert  them  in  their  hour  of  blackness  and  spend 
his  days  in  a  happiness  stolen  from  his  fellows ! 

283 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

He  had  turned  westward  on  Pratt  Street  with  a  half- 
formed  idea  of  returning  toward  the  heart  of  the  City  and 
thence  to  his  home.  Trudging  along  he  recalled,  through 
some  freak  of  memory,  the  stories  he  had  been  told  of  a 
famous  battle  which  had  once  been  waged  where  he  now 
stood — a  significant  prelude  to  the  long  years  of  relent 
less  warefare  between  the  States. 

The  street  which  now  lay  empty  and  silent  had  then 
been  vibrant  with  the  tramp  of  armed  men,  marching 
through  present  danger  to  cope  with  a  still  greater  peril  in 
the  South.  In  the  ears  of  these  intrepid  men  from  the 
•North  had  rung  the  shrieks  and  curses  of  thousands  who 
felt  the  presence  upon  Maryland  soil  of  these  invaders  to 
be  a  strain  harder  to  bear  than  death  itself.  Soon,  instead 
of  mere  angry  words,  deadlier  tokens  of  hate  had  been 
hurled  against  the  strangers.  Out  of  the  dense  crowd 
which  lined  the  roadway  rifle  shots  had  gone  speeding  into 
the  ranks  of  the  soldiers,  only  to  be  answered  by  the 
rattle  of  volleys  of  musketry.  The  ground  upon  which 
the  Rabbi  trod  had  been  sanctified  by  the  blood  of  martyrs, 
who,  dying  by  each  other's  hand,  had  none  the  less  yielded 
up  their  lives  for  the  same  idea.  To  each  one  who  died, 
some  abstract  principle,  but  dimly  understood,  had  been 
far  more  precious  than  the  mere  physical  routine  of 
keeping  alive ! 

Tired  as  he  was,  the  minister's  gait  unconsciously 
assumed  a  martial  stride  as  he  pictured  to  himself  this 
scene  of  fifty-five  years  ago !  Fifty-five  years ! — and  still 
this  story  of  heroism  was  fraught  with  untarnished 
meaning  and  pathos,  because  the  men  who  had  died  here 
on  Pratt  Street,  had  given  voice  to  the  hope  poor,  bewil 
dered  mankind  loves  best  to  cherish;  the  faith  in  the 

284 


THE  VOICE  OF  DUTY 

beauty  and  purpose  of  a  lifetime  of  loyalty  to  one's  beliefs, 
and  of  a  cheerfully-accepted  death  rather  than  their 
surrender. 

Yet  each  of  these  men  who  here  passed  from  life  on 
that  April  morning  had  known  the  ecstasy  of  some  woman's 
love,  and  had  sacrificed  that,  too,  with  all  the  rest  of  glad, 
youthful  existence.  Each  of  them  had  suffered  her  pain 
as  well  as  his  own,  as  he  had  unclasped  her  soft  arms  from 
around  him  and  hurried  off  to  the  grim  embrace  of  Death. 

What  answer  was  Philip  to  make  to  his  accusing  con 
science  through  all  the  long  years  still  before  him,  when 
he  should  be  called  to  explain  why  he  had  shirked  what  all 
these  men  had  blithely  dared  ? 

True,  it  was  easier  to  give  one's  life  among  cheering 
comrades,  in  one  swift  impulse  of  emotion,  than  to  dole 
it  out,  day-by-day,  in  prosaic  solitude  and  soul-numbing 
doubts,  but  these  men  who  had  died  to  preserve  a  Union 
or  to  defend  the  liberties  of  their  native  State,  were  mere 
random  artisans  or  plow-boys,  not  men  like  himself  who 
had  schooled  themselves  during  years  of  preparation  for 
the  coming  of  a  crisis.  And  he,  Philip1,  was  besides,  one 
of  the  Priest  people  of  God !  It  was  but  fair  that  more 
should  be  demanded  of  him,  and  with  God's  help,  he,  too, 
would  answer  the  bugle  call  of  duty !  God's  voice,  speak 
ing  through  his  trembling  lips,  had  inspired  a  young  and 
heedless  girl  to  devote  her  wealth  to  the  service  of  Truth ; 
tomorrow,  like  a  prophet  of  old,  it  was  to  be  his  privilege  | 
to  stand  between  two  armies  of  angry  kinsmen  and  bid 
them  throw  down  their  weapons  and  work  together  for 
peace  and  Justice,  in  the  name  of  the  great  Jehovah !  Nay, 
more,  it  would  be  his  marvelous  task  to  force  these  bitter 
enemies  to  keep  the  compact  after  having  made  it,  and  to 

285 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

serve  as  an  example  of  equity  and  brotherly  love  to  all 
mankind.  It  was  a  mission  worth  dying  for,  and  gladly, 
too.  It  was  worth  living  a  wounded,  crippled  life  to  do 
this  thing.  Countless  little  children,  like  the  infant  he 
had  heard  crying  in  the  night,  would  have  the  currents  of 
their  lives  diverted  to  the  left  or  the  right  according  to  his 
weakness  or  his  loyalty. 

Besides,  with  this  haunting  memory  of  the  desertion  of 
a  supreme  opportunity,  his  life,  even  with  Ellen,  would  be 
like  that  of  Gain — a  wanderer  upon  the  earth,  fleeing  from 
the  knowledge  of  having  killed  the  noblest  part  of  his  own 
self.  The  fate  he  must  accept  was  more  cruel  than  that 
of  Jephthah,  whose  vows  had  forced  him  to  the  sacrifice 
of  a  mere  daughter ;  but  like  Jephthah,  the  welfare  of  his 
people  was  at  stake. 

He  had  heard  in  the  night  their  cry  of  pain  and  misery ; 
he  could  bring  them  to  peace  through  the  God  he  served. 
His  pity  for  them  was  greater  than  his  pity  for  his  own 
wounds.  He  would  not  fail  them.  He,  too,  like  his  ances 
tors,  would  know  how  to  suffer  for  the  faith  that  was 
in  him ! 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

PHILIP  began  the  first  day  of  his  career  of  renunciation 
and  self-immolation,  with  a  bold  concession  to  the  unlaw 
ful  manner  of  living  he  had  determined  to  abandon.  In 
the  broad  daylight  of  the  morning,  he  went  directly  to 
Ellen's  house,  without  giving  one  thought  to  the 
possibilities  of  detection.  He  could  not  permit  her  to  go 
about  her  work,  all  through  the  long  day,  without  some 
word  from  him  to  explain  how  little  of  indifference  or 
neglect  there  had  been  in  his  absence  of  the  night  before. 
From  her  doorway  he  had  walked  with  her  the  entire  dis 
tance  into  East  Baltimore,  not  even  taking  the  trouble  to 
avoid  the  more  congested  thoroughfares.  All  of  which 
merely  demonstrates  the  criminal  imprudence  -which  log 
ically  flows  from  a  firm  faith  in  one's  own  innocence ! 
There  is  nothing  like  a  little  chastening  guilt  to  teach  a 
man  how  to  become  a  pattern  of  cautious  respectability. 

This  morning,  the  Rabbi  had  no  room  in  his  mind  for 
cares  about  petty  gossip.  He  told  Ellen  everything  of  his 
adventure  of  the  night  before — withholding  no  detail, 
except  the  prologue  of  his  former  tender  interest  in  Ruth, 
and  his  own  surmises  regarding  the  hopes  his  fair  parish 
ioner  might  indulge  for  the  future.  Even  the  most 
veracious  of  men  and  ministers  must  retain  some  shreds 
and  patches  of  decent  reticence.  Ellen  listened  to  his 
story  with  few  interruptions.  She  was  sufficiently  a 
woman  to  presume  an  addkional  motive  on  the  part  of 
Ruth  other  than  the  one  so  becomingly  displayed.  Of 

287 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

course,  this  young  Jewess  was  merely  using  a  particularly 
adroit  method  of  dazzling  the  young  Rabbi  with  the  power 
of  her  vulgar  money — money  which,  Ellen  reflected  bit 
terly,  had  all  been  earned  by  the  efforts  of  others,  and 
which  this  rich  young  idler  had  done  absolutely  nothing 
to  deserve. 

For  a  minute,  in  spite  of  all  her  tediously  worked  out 
conclusions,  Ellen  felt  sweeping  over  her  a  wild,  angry 
impulse  to  match  her  wits  against  those  of  this  arrogant 
daughter  of  a  line  of  parasites.  She  could  make  her 
understand  how  many  other  things  there  were  in  the 
world  besides  bags  of  gold !  If  she  would  but  nerve  her 
self  to  a  struggle  for  Philip  she  felt  sure  the  victory  would 
be  with  her — despite  the  handicaps  of  race,  poverty  and 
tradition. 

Then  she  looked  at  Philip's  haggard,  care-worn  face 
and  the  hot,  unreasoning  desire  for  combat  died  within 
her.  What  a  night  this  boy  must  have  endured!  And 
how  many  more  like  it  he  would  still  have  to  face  if  she 
led  him  away  in  triumph  as  a  trophy  of  her  feminine 
skill, — worse  nights,  in  fact,  because  the  last  had  ended, 
so  he  imagined,  in  a  somber  kind  of  victory  while  those  to 
come  would  be  dedicated  to  fruitless  regrets.  She  would 
awaken  in  the  night  time,  and  turning  quietly  around  so 
he  might  not  become  aware  of  her  scrutiny,  she  would  see 
in  the  dim  shadows,  his  features  set  in  that  tense,  twisted 
look  of  misery — his  sleepless  eyes  dull  with  the  frank 
recognition  of  a  wasted  life;  and  all  the  while,  in  the 
silence,  she  would  be  able  to  read  his  unspoken  words  say 
ing,  over  and  over  and  over,  how  it  was  she,  Ellen,  who 
had  lured  him  to  this  doom  of  perpetual  exile  from  every 
thing  he  cherished. 

288 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

As  they  strolled  slowly  along,  she  spoke  to  him,  now 
and  then,  in  short  sentences  of  gentle  sympathy  lest  he 
might  guess  how  much  his  narrative  was  hurting  her.  She 
was  no  longer  giving  her  attention  to  what  he  was  saying, 
but  with  the  passing  of  each  minute  her  own  ideas  became 
more  clearly  defined. 

What  would  be  the  use  of  her  victory  when  it  must 
be  bought  at  such  a  price  ?  How  could  this  empty-headed 
little  Jewess,  with  her  simpering  airs  and  graces,  and  her 
jingling  money,  matter  to  her  ?  What  possible  consolation 
would  she  find  in  teaching  her  the  lesson  she  deserved? 
It  was  the  man  she  cared  about.  This  theatrical  game 
of  Ruth's  was  after  all  nothing  but  an  incident.  Sooner  or 
later,  something  like  this  must  in  one  way  or  another  have 
come  to  pass,  to  make  clear  the  sharp  distinction  between 
his  kind  of  life  and  hers.  By  arts  she  detested,  Ellen 
could,  if  she  chose,  enslave  his  senses  for  a  few,  brief 
days.  Now  she  knew  with  certainty  what  she  had  always 
told  herself :  that  she  could  never  entwine  his  spirit  with 
her  own, — not  even  for  those  few  hours  of  which  she  had 
dreamed.  She  would  have  been  satisfied  with  that.  If 
for  the  tiniest  space  of  time  she  could  have  made  certain 
of  her  conquest  of  every  bit  of  him — the  complete  union 
of  his  nature  with  her  own — she  could  have  reconciled  her 
self  to  the  swift  lapse  of  her  short,  glorious  hour.  But 
this  morning,  in  the  dull  grayness  and  chill,  she  knew 
beyond  all  peradventure  the  ugly  truth.  She  could 
•ensnare,  if  she  would,  the  weaker  part  of  him  only  by 
lulling  into  slumber  the  stronger  half  of  his  sensitive  being. 
And  even  then,  there  must  soon  arrive  a  horrified  hour  of 
awakening. 

With  the  swiftness  of  thought  as  rapid  as  the  play 

289 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  light  and  shade  upon  her  mobile  face,  her  decision  was 
made.  These  ebbs  and  flows  of  hope  and  despair,  these 
meetings  at  night  with  their  words  of  sober  renunciation, 
and  their  kisses  and  caresses  of  an  intensity  in  which 
there  was  much  more  of  sharp  pain  than  of  joyous  tender 
ness,  could  mean  nothing  further  to  them  but  added  tor 
ment — and  temptation,  too!  She  would  end  it,  once  and 
for  all,  without  another  day's  delay.  There  should  be  no 
scene  of  farewell  to  blur  with  foolish,  incoherent  words, 
and  uncharacteristic  tears,  the  happiness  of  their  memo 
ries.  After  they  should  go  their  separate  ways  this  morn 
ing,  she  would  not  see  him  again.  She  could  go  away  as 
well  today  as  a  few  days  hence.  By  nightfall  she  would 
be  beyond  his  seeking. 

All  unconscious  of  the  fate  in  store  for  him,  Philip 
accompanied  Ellen  to  the  door  of  the  East  Side  branch 
office  of  the  Medical  Service  Society  which  employed  her, 
and  there  he  left  her.  If  she  held  his  hand  for  an  instant 
longer  than  was  usual  at  their  moments  of  casual  separa 
tion — if  there  was  a  deeper  seriousnes  in  her  voice  and  her 
smile — he  attributed  these  things  to  the  earnestness  of  their 
conversation  and  to  the  sweetness  of  her  comprehension  of 
his  problem.  He  meant  to  see  her  tonight;  they  would 
talk  further  of  his  plans  and  of  hers.  Meanwhile,  his 
work  was  with  the  garment  makers,  and  without  further 
delay,  he  made  his  way  to  their  headquarters. 

It  was  then  almost  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Philip, 
with  his  ready-made  ideas  regarding  the  industrious  habits 
of  the  working  class,  and  his  failure  to  distinguish  between 
laboring  men  and  labor  leaders,  had  assumed  the  certainty 
of  the  men  he  sought  having  reported  for  duty  hours  ago. 

He  was  usually  at  work  long  before  this  time  and 

290 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

was  accustomed  to  reproach  himself,  now  and  then,  with 
indolence;  he  was  therefore  both  surprised  and  a  little 
annoyed  to  find  the  offices  of  the  Union  deserted  except 
for  the  presence  of  a  totally  indifferent  office  boy,  intently 
devouring  a  questionable  morsel  of  paper-bound  fiction. 
The  uncarpeted  floors  of  the  offices  were  littered  with 
scraps  of  paper  and  fragments  of  burnt-out  cigars ;  a  dis 
tasteful  smell  of  stale  tobacco,  garlic  and  a  not-too-care 
fully-scrubbed  little  boy,  caused  the  most  unpleasant  sen 
sations  to  assail  Philip,  already  slightly  unsteady  as  a 
result  of  his  sleepless  night.  Every  window,  of  course, 
was  uncompromisingly  closed. 

The  little  boy  honored  the  Rabbi  with  only  the  most 
casual  of  glances,  and  went  on  busily  ministering  to  his 
hunger  for  literature.  Philip  walked  to  the  window  and 
threw  it  wide  open,  taking  deep  breaths  of  the  cool  air, 
and  finding  himself  promptly  revived.  At  the  same  time, 
he  succeeded  in  securing  the  attention  of  the  boy  in  a  way 
which  simple  words  would  never  have  obtained  for  him. 
The  hero  of  the  tale  the  boy  was  reading  was  at  that  very 
instant  leaping  boldly  from  the  roof  of  one  tenement 
house  to  the  fire  escape  of  another,  to  defeat  the  dastardly 
purposes  of  a  band  of  ruthless  assassins.  The  youthful 
connoisseur  of  narrative  detected  in  himself  a  rather  strik 
ing  resemblance  to  the  dauntless  and  acrobatic  protagonist 
of  this  epic ;  nevertheless,  the  cold  air  from  the  open  win 
dow  distressed  him;  perhaps  the  feats  of  daring  he  ad 
mired  had  been  performed  in  the  balminess  of  summer. 
At  any  rate,  he  turned  to  Philip  and  said  pertly : 

"  Hey,  Mister !  don't  you  know  it's  still  winter  ?  Real 
money — they  pay  for  coal  to  heat  this  place." 

Philip  lowered  the  window,  without  a  word  of  protest. 
After  all,  his  action  in  raising  it  had  been  arbitrary. 

291 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Then  he  asked  the  boy,  who  was  in  charge  of  the  head 
quarters. 

"  Me,"  the  youngster  responded,  with  a  delightful 
sense  of  his  own  importance,  but  he  did  condescend  to 
furnish  further  scraps  of  information.  Nobody  came  down 
to  these  rooms  until  after  what  the  boy  called  "  dinner 
time,"  by  which  term  he  meant  to  identify  the  noon  hour. 
Thereafter  the  officers  might  be  expected  to  stroll  in, 
at  indefinite  times,  during  the  early  afternoon.  To  the 
Rabbi's  disappointed  exclamations  of  surprise,  the  boy 
contented  himself  with  the  rather  contemptuous  reply  that 
if  Philip  had  known  anything  at  all  regarding  the  habits 
of  such  gentlemen  as  his  employers,  he  would  realize  the 
necessity  of  their  presence  at  headquarters  every  night 
until  very  late.  "  They  gotta  sleep  some  time !  "  their 
small  advocate  had  declared  belligerently. 

So  Philip  was  left  with  an  entire  forenoon  of  enforced 
leisure,  and  no  inclination  whatever  for  enjoying  it.  Only 
a  few  blocks  away — or  a  few  "  squares  "  as  everyone 
in  Baltimore  would  have  phrased  it — there  was  a  thriving 
Jewish  Settlement  House  whose  workers  would  have  been 
proud  to  exhibit  their  activities  to  the  Rabbi. 

This  morning,  however,  found  him  with  no  strength 
for  courteous  inspection  and  the  display  of  a  polite  enthu 
siasm  over  each  marvel  presented  for  his  approval. 
Ordinarily,  he  would  have  enjoyed  wandering  up  and 
down  the  streets,  with  eyes  and  ears  alert  to  learn  what 
he  might  of  the  life  of  the  people  who  were,  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  his  fellow-Jews,  and  strangers  less  compre 
hensible  than  the  up-town  Gentiles.  To-day,  he  was 
too  weary  from  his  pilgrimage  of  the  night  before,  to 
undertake  such  an  adventure,  even  had  he  not  been  a  victim 
of  a  great  desire  to  avoid  being  left  alone  with  his  own 

292 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

thoughts.  There  were  motion-picture  parlors  plentifully 
strewn  throughout  the  neighborhood,  where  the  legends 
thrown  on  the  screen  were  printed  in  Yiddish.  He  might 
have  improved  his  acquaintance  with  the  dialect  by  such 
an  essay  of  frivolity,  but  he  rather  prided  himself  upon 
a  fastidious  dislike  of  motion-pictures,  even  at  their  best. 

At  last  he  decided  to  ride  up-town  to  the  Hopkins 
Library,  and  there  he  lost  himself  until  lunch  time  over 
la  translation  of  Dante's  "  New  Life  " — learning  how 
another  man,  long  since  mingled  with  the  dust,  had 
drawn  inspiration  and  courage  from  the  soul  of  a  woman 
whose  warm  human  companionship  he  had  been  con 
demned  never  to  know. 

In  the  afternoon  he  again  presented  himself  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  strikers  and  this  time  the  rooms,  in 
vivid  contrast  to  their  former  state  of  empty  dreariness, 
were  agog  with  the  confusion  of  hurried  messengers 
and  excited  conferences.  Philip,  after  submitting  to  a 
number  of  preliminary  challenges,  found  himself  in  an 
inner  room  where  six  or  seven  men  were  grouped  about  a 
long,  dirty,  pine-wood  table  littered  with  a  mass  of  papers, 
among  which  each  one  seemed  to  be  struggling  anxiously 
and  hopelessly  to  rescue  some  misplaced  document.  All 
of  them,  in  this  stuffy  room,  were  arrayed  in  hats  of 
varying  degrees  of  shabbiness,  and  most  of  them  were 
heavily  bearded.  , 

When  Philip  entered,  they  all  seemed  to  be  talking  at 
the  same  time,  and  so  incoherently  as  to  leave  him  in  some 
doubt  as  to  what  language  was  being  spoken. 

When  his  hosts  became  conscious  of  his  presence,  one 
of  them,  speaking  English  with  a  marked  accent,  but  with 
an  almost  perfect  grammatical  precision,  demanded  of 
him  the  purpose  of  his  visit. 

293 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

The  Rabbi,  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  replied 
to  this  question. 

"  My  name  is  Philip  Graetz,"  he  informed  them,  "  I'm 
the  Rabbi  of  the  Temple  Beth  El." 

There  was  certainly  no  outburst  of  cordiality  at  the 
announcement,  but  one  of  the  men  arose  and  placed  a  chair 
for  Philip  and  invited  him,  with  some  semblance  of 
heartiness,  to  be  seated.  The  Rabbi  would  have  preferred 
to  stand;  he  talked  more  fluently  when  he  was  on  his 
feet,  but  he  deemed  it  unwise  to  reject  this  little  act  of 
friendliness,  so  he  accepted  the  chair  and  continued : 

"  I've  been  thinking  a  long  time  about  your  strike, 
and  remembering  that  most  of  your  men  are  Jews, — 
just  like  myself,  and  the  men  who  own  the  Pioneer  factory. 
Our  Religion  tells  us  Jews  ought  to  live  at  peace  with 
each  other.  I  think  I've  found  a  way  to  make  peace  on 
fair  terms  if  you  leaders  will  help  me.  I  can't  tell  you 
yet  just  how  I  mean  to  do  it,  but  if  you  and  I  can  agree 
on  a  settlement,  I  give  you  my  word  I  can  put  it  through ; 
and  remember,  I  don't  want  anything  except  what's  just 
to  both  sides,", 

There  followed  a  buzz  of  guttural  syllables,  as  Philip's 
words  were  translated  for  the  benefit  of  the  few  who 
could  not  comprehend  him.  Then,  after  a  whispered  con 
versation  between  several  of  the  men,  the  one  who  had  first 
spoken  turned  to  Philip  and  asked  bluntly : 

"  Do  you  come  here  from  Mr.  Kaufman  ?  " 

"  No,"  Philip  answered.  "  I  represent  nobody  but  my 
self.  That  ought  to  make  it  all  the  easier  for  us  to  work 
together.  All  I  want  is  to  send  the  men  back  to  the  factory 
with  an  agreement  that  shall  be  perfectly  fair.  If  we  can 
decide  what  is  fair,  I've  got  a  plan  to  make  the  Pioneer 
Company  accept  it." 

294 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

Again  there  was  a  murmur  of  confused  words, — 
louder  and  more  articulate  than  before.  Philip  recognized 
one  or  two  phrases  and  heard  the  name  of  Kaufman 
repeated  several  times. 

"  I  can  understand  Yiddish,"  he  announced,  with  a 
shadow  of  pardonable  pride — harboring  no  doubt  of  a 
more  genial  reception  because  of  this  possession  of  a 
common  language. 

He  was  greatly  surprised,  therefore,  when  immediately 
upon  learing  of  his  unexpected  ability  to  deal  with  their 
dialect,  the  entire  group  abandoned  their  places  at  the 
table  and  gathered  into  an  excited  knot  in  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  room.  No  one  seemed,  in  the  slightest  degree, 
to  be  concious  of  any  discourtesy  in  this  proceeding.  They 
had  something  to  discuss  which,  for  many  reasons,  this 
stranger  ought  not  to  overhear,  and  they  consequently, 
without  the  semblance  of  an  apology,  set  about  dis 
cussing  it. 

The  man  who  had  first  spoken  seemed  to  be  contending 
earnestly  against  most  of  the  others.  Apparently,  the 
debate  developed  no  small  amount  of  heat  and  personal 
acrimony.  The  speakers  gesticulated  wildly,  and  several 
times  a  grimy  finger  was  pointed  accusingly  at  the  wait 
ing  Rabbi. 

Their  deliberations  came  to  an  end  as  unexpectedly 
as  they  had  begun.  The  men  returned  to  their  seats  at  the 
table,  and  their  spokesman  addressing  Philip,  thanked  him 
for  the  interest  he  had  shown  in  their  trouble  and  added — • 
patently  without  having  been  authorized  to  do  so — his 
belief  in  the  possiblity  of  some  settlement  through  the 
Rabbi's  kind  efforts.  The  strikers,  for  their  part,  like 
Dr.  Graetz,  wanted  nothing  in  all  the  world  except  what 
was  just  and  right.  The  committee  would  ask  the 

295 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Reverend  Doctor  "  (the  speaker  rolled  this  unctuous 
phrase  lovingly  under  his  tongue)  to  take  up  this  matter 
in  detail  with  Mr.  David  Gordon  whose  offices  were  in  the 
Atlantic  Trust  Building.  Mr.  Gordon  understood  exactly 
what  the  strikers  needed.  The  man  ended  by  invoking 
upon  Philip  an  ornate  blessing  for  his  pious  solicitude 
for  the  cause  of  the  poor  and  oppressed. 

Philip  returned  to  the  street  and  boarded  a  car,  with 
a  sense  of  relief.  There  was  nothing  tangible  of  which 
he  had  cause  to  complain.  He  had  been  given  some  sort 
of  hearing,  had  received  fair  words  in  exchange,  and  had 
been  referred  to  a  practical  man  with  whom  it  would  be 
easier  to  deal  than  these  puzzling,  black-bearded  men  with 
whom  he  found  it  so  difficult  to  remember  his  kinship. 

Yet  he  would  have  much  preferred  to  have  remained 
with  this  committee  until  late  at  night  in  earnest  but 
good-humored  dispute  over  the  merits  of  their  demands, 
if  only  they  would  have  given  some  sign  of  acceptance 
of  him  as  a  friend  who  was  there  to  learn  their  needs  and 
to  give  them,  with  generous  heartiness,  whatever  help  he 
could.  Instead,  they  had  viewed  him  with  frank  suspicion, 
questioned  his  motives,  and  sent  him,  in  the  end,  to  some 
one  whom  they  believed  sufficiently  clever  to  distinguish 
whether  he  was,  in  truth,  a  friend,  a  spy  or  an  ambas 
sador, — someone  who  would  know  how  to  utilize  his  aid 
or  to  render  harmless  his  hostility,  as  the  circumstances 
should  indicate. 

Philip's  next  duty  was  to  report  to  Ruth  the  outcome 
of  the  first  day's  skirmish,  and  this  he  did  before  return 
ing  to  his  own  rooms.  The  girl  had  spent  the  day  in 
vigorous,  well-devised  and  skillfully-executed  operations 
for  financing,  without  publicity,  the  cost  of  the  huge 
purchases  of  stock  she  planned  to  begin  upon  the  morrow. 

296 


THE  APPEAL  TO  ORGANIZED  LABOR 

She  had,  so.  far,  performed  her  share  of  the  work  without 
a  single  untoward  incident,  and  the  coming  of  twilight 
found  her  as  unwearied  and  enthusiastic  as  if  she  had 
been  motoring  in  the  Park.  She  was  painfully  impressed 
by  the  ravages  which  the  last  night  and  day  had  worked 
upon  Philip.  She  had  no  difficulty  in  guessing  the  cause, 
but  she  was  wise  enough  not  only  to  say  nothing  about 
his  ashen  cheeks  and  the  deep  circles  under  his  eyes,  but, 
in  addition,  to  lend  an  air  of  plausibility  to  his  belief  that 
she  had  found  no  opportunity  to  perceive  anything  un 
usual  in  his  appearance.  With  this  idea  in  mind,  she 
led  him  swiftly  from  the  lighted  hallway  into  the  dusk  of 
the  library,  and  there  he  told  her  of  what  he  had  already 
accomplished  and  of  his  projected  interview  with  Gordon 
next  day.  She  gave  a  moment's  consideration  to  the 
thought  of  urging  him,  to  see  the  lawyer  that  very  night, 
thus  separating  him  a  second  time  from  the  influence  of 
the  woman  from  whose  clutches  she  meant  to  rescue  him ; 
but  when  she  remembered  his  air  of  complete  exhaustion, 
and  his  look  of  hopeless  misery,  she  could  not  find  it  in 
her  heart  to  add  to  the  weight  of  his  unhappiness. 

Therefore,  Philip  had  returned  to  his  own  rooms, 
telephoned  the  lawyer  making  an  appointment  for  the 
following  morning,  and  completed  a  solitary  dinner,  pre 
paratory  to  a  visit  to  Ellen,  when  a  note  from  her  was 
brought  to  him.  The  hour  when  it  was  to  be  delivered 
had  been  marked  on  the  envelope  and  the  letter  itself  was 
a  thing  of  only  a  few  lines.  She  had  written : 
"Mv  DEAR: 

We  have  reached  the  time — you  have  known  it  as  well  as  I— 
when  our  hours  together  have  come  to  hold  less  of  joy  than  of 
pain.  When  I  made  sure  of  this,  I  determined  there  should  be 

297 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

no  more  of  them,  and  when  this  note  reaches  you  I  shall  be  gone. 
You  would  have  found  no  comfort  in  bidding  me  farewell.  There 
are  a  thousand  things  I  would  have  wished  to  say  to  you — but  you 
know  them  all,  already,  or  if  you  don't,  you  could  never  have 
understood  them.  It  would  be  silly  to  tell  you  to  forget  me ;  it  is 
almost  as  silly  to  urge  you  to  remember  only  the  happiness  we 
found  together ;  but  try  to  do  it,  anyhow,  because  it's  I  who  ask 
it  of  you !  Ellen." 

Philip  sat  perfectly  still  for  a  long  time,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  letter.  So  his  romance  was  over.  He  was 
surprised  to  find,  in  himself,  no  increased  intensity  of 
suffering.  This  was  what  he  had  been  nerving  himself  to 
meet  for  days,  and  now  when  it  had  come,  he  felt  numb, 
almost  stupidly  insensible.  His  capacity  for  all  emotion 
had  been  stretched  to  the  breaking  point.  To  his  dull 
eyes  life  seemed  to  stretch  out  endlessly  before  him  with 
nothing  of  brightness  in  it,  but  with  nothing  more  of 
horror  potent  enough  to  do  him  further  injury.  He  was 
even  concious  of  a  sense  of  relief  at  having  arrived,  after 
all  this  fever,  at  a  state  of  languid  indifference  to  any 
thing  Fate  might  choose  to  inflict.  There  would  be  no 
more  of  struggle,  no  more  of  vain  desire,  no  more  of  beat 
ing  one's  wings  desperately  against  the  cage  of  Duty. 

He  was  done  with  Youth  and  all  its  frantic  hopes 
and  disillusions ;  his  mind  and  his  body  were  too  unutter 
ably  weary  to  care  what  was  in  store  for  him. 

Wiith  Ellen's  letter  in  his  hand,  he  flung  himself, 
fully  dressed  as  he  was,  face  downward  upon  his  bed  and 
lay  there  for  hours  perfectly  motionless,  his  mind  pos 
sessed  by  a  'kaleidoscopic  jumble  of  incoherent  fancies  and 
memories  until  his  crushing  exhaustion  brought  its  own 
anaesthetic,  and  gave  him  the  boon  of  Sleep. 

298 


PHILIP  arose  next  morning,  after  many  hours  of 
slumber,  feeling  precisely  as  though  someone  very  near 
to  him  had  died,  after  a  long  and  agonizing  illness.  He 
could  not  rid  himself  of  a  sense  of  irreparable  loss,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  perceived  with  perfect  clarity  how 
little  of  consolation  there  would  have  been  in  postponing 
the  inevitable  disaster. 

Meanwhile,  the  world's  work  must  go  on,  no  matter 
over  whose  dead  hopes  it  passed,  and  for  him  the  most 
important  part  of  the  world's  work  was  the  ending  of  the 
strike  at  the  Pioneer  factory. 

He  found  himself  unable  to  walk  down  town,  remem 
bering  as  he  did,  so  vividly,  how  he  and  Ellen  had  passed 
down  these  streets  together  only  the  day  before.  There 
were  a  thousand  irrelevant  recollections  of  her  words,  her 
face,  and  her  little  mannerisms  which  kept  crowding 
unsought  into  his  thoughts.  He  did  not  endeavor  to  push 
them  aside.  After  all,  what  else  of  her  was  left  to  him? 

He  hailed  a  street  car,  but  noticing  through  its  windows 
several  of  his  acquaintances,  he  returned  hurriedly  to  the 
sidewalk  and  let  it  pass  on  without  him,  thereby  provoking 
a  broadside  of  profanity  from  the  exasperated  motorman. 
Yet  he  had  fancied  what  he  desired  most  was  to  forget 
himself  among  a  crowd  of  people! 

Finally  he  yielded  to  the  wanton  extravagance  of  being 
driven  to  the  Atlantic  Trust  Building  in  a  taxicab.  He 

m 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

knew  he  was  more  than  a  little  absurd,  but  he  did  not 
greatly  care. 

Thanks  to  the  "  taxi  "  he  had  not  needed,  he  arrived  in 
Gordon's  busy  offices  some  minutes  before  the  hour  of  his 
appointment,  and  sat  impatiently  in  the  reception  room 
pretending  to  read  a  newspaper. 

When  his  turn  came,  he  was  shown  into  David's  con 
sultation  room  and  found  him  seated  at  a  big  work  table, 
on  which  lay  neatly  arranged  piles  of  books  and  papers. 
The  room  was  severe  in  its  freedom  from  all  ornamenta 
tion,  but  it  was  nevertheless  a  cheerful  work-place,  with  its 
great  windows,  and  its  air  of  comfortable  spaciousness. 

As  the  two  men  shook  hands,  the  lawyer  cast  at  Philip 
a  glance  of  rapid  appraisal.  The  boy  didn't  look  well. 
Evidently,  this  strike  was  getting  on  his  nerves.  It  was  a 
pity  that  a  perverse  Destiny  made  it  necessary  for  fragile 
pitchers  to  go  to  the  well! 

"  Good  morning,  Doctor,"  the  lawyer  said  briskly. 
"The  committee  telephoned  me  all  about  your  visit  to 
them.  I'm  sorry  you  will  persist  in  meddling  in  this  grimy 
strike  of  ours — but  here  you  are !  " 

"  Sorry?  "  Philip  repeated  in  a  questioning  tone. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  David  answered  emphatically.  "  I 
told  you  before,  you  haven't  the  temperament  for  such 
rough  sport.  Look  at  yourself !  You're  as  seedy  and  for 
lorn  looking  as  if  you'd  been  on  a  three  days'  debauch, 
while  I'm  as  chipper  as  the  handsome  young  man  who 
stands  in  the  front  row  of  one  of  Mr.  Kaufman's  clothing 
advertisements.  Yet  I  represent  the  sobbing  victims  in  this 
tragedy,  while  all  your  overfed  people  are  hopelessly  test 
ing  out  plans  to  '  eat  and  grow  thin/  You  ought  to  keep 
your  fingers  out  of  reach  of  the  flames !  " 

300 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

Philip,  who  had  come  here  to  forget  a  real  sorrow  in  a 
great  mission,  was  in  no  humor  for  such  ill-timed  chatter. 
He  replied  with  unusual  tartness : 

"  You  seem  to  have  had  no  scruples  about  burning  my 
fingers  the  only  time  you  got  the  chance ! " 

"  You  mean  after  the  Charity  meeting?  "  asked  David, 
smiling.  "  My  dear  Doctor,"  he  added,  "  you  will  never 
realize  how  forbearing  I've  really  been  to  you.  I  could 
have  made  use  of  you  in  this  mess,  in  ways  of  which  your 
innocent  young  mind  could  never  conceive.  The  angel  in 
me  strove  with  the  artist,  and  it  was  the  artist  who  came 
to  grief.  Honestly,  it's  downright  cruel  of  you  to  make  of 
yourself  a  constant  source  of  temptation  to  a  man  like  me 
whose  morals  were  never  particularly  strong  to  begin 
•with." 

If  there  was  anything  mildly  amusing  in  David's 
words,  Philip  was  not  in  the  mood  to  perceive  it. 

"  I've  come,  then,"  he  said  uncompromisingly,  "  to 
tempt  you  some  more.  If  you  find  pleasure  in  making 
well-intentioned  people  ridiculous,  you  shall  have  another 
chance." 

David  regarded  him  with  an  air  of  puzzled  good-will. 

"  All  right,"  he  assented  after  a  minute,  "  I've  been 
trying — if  you'd  been  able  to  understand — to  give  you  a 
chance  to  get  out  of  this  present  little  spasm  with  a  good 
grace.  You  could  have  blamed  it  on  me — said  I  was 
insulting  from  the  very  beginning.  But  you  won't  have 
it.  Tell  me  your  latest  rosy  dream,  and  your  troubles  will 
begin  afresh." 

"  I  presume  you  don't  want  to  talk  to  me  in  confi 
dence  ?  "  Philip  suggested. 

"  Not  about  this  affair,"  David  announced  bluntly. 
301 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  You  saw  the  committee  yesterday  afternoon.  Did  they 
strike  you  as  men  to  whom  one  could  send  a  message  say 
ing  '  Dr.  Graetz  called — we  talked  secrets  together.  If 
anything  comes  of  it,  I'll  tell  you?'  If  you  wanted  a 
confidential  conference,  you  should  have  come  to  me 
first." 

Philip  nodded  in  acquiescence ;  he  saw  the  reasonable 
ness  of  the  lawyer's  position. 

"  I  didn't  stop  to  realize,"  he  admitted  by  way  of 
apology,  "  the  type  of  men  we'd  have  to  deal  with." 

"  No,"  David  agreed,  "  we're  in  a  bad  way  there.  The 
strikers  have  a  huge  streak  of  the  fool  in  them,  and  the 
owners,  of  the  knave.  So  we  have  to  play  with  the  cards 
on  the  table — unless  you  prefer  not  to  play  at  all,"  he 
concluded. 

Philip  made  a  gesture  of  determination.  He  had  no 
intention  of  being  frightened  from  his  duty. 

"  Then  talk  away,"  David  commanded.  "  Only  re 
member  to  say  nothing  to  me  you  are  unwilling  to  have 
shouted  from  the  house  tops,  and  if  you  forget,  and 
thereby  get  another  bruise,  remember  how  the  villain  of 
the  plot,  touched  by  your  girlish  purity,  tried  in  vain  after 
your  guileless  visit  to  his  rooms  to  '  save  your  honor.' " 

After  which  flippant,  but  not  meaningless,  warning 
Philip  began, — speaking  deliberately  and  slowly : 

"  You  have  to  take  part  of  my  message  on  faith.  To 
begin  with,  bear  in  mind  I  represent  nobody  but  myself ; 
but  I  have  worked  out  a  method  of  forcing  the  consent  of 
the  Pioneer  Company  to  any  agreement  with  the  strikers 
to  which  I  find  it  possible  to  give  my  own  approval.  The 
only  thing  necessary  is  for  the  strikers  and  myself  to  reach 
such  terms." 

302 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

The  lawyer  considered  Philip's  remarks  gravely  before 
replying. 

"  You're  sure  you  don't  care  ta  give  any  further 
details  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No.  If  I  did  it  would  make  the  success  of  my  plan 
impossible,"  the  Rabbi  insisted  firmly. 

"  Let  me  ask  you  one  other  question,"  the  lawyer  went 
on.  "  When  you  say  you  represent  no  one  else,  you  are 
using  an  equivocal  expression.  I  don't  represent  the  Union. 
They  have  paid  me  no  fee,  and  my  only  formal  client  in 
this  affair  is  Ginzberg ;  but  I  have  the  means  to  force  the 
Union  to  do  exactly  what  I  demand — within  reasonable 
limits,  of  course.  Now,  I  take  it  for  granted  yaw  aren't 
going  to  put  the  screws  on  the  Pioneer  people  all  by  your 
self.  Tell  me  as  a  man  of  hqnor — which  I  know  you  to  be 
— whether  your  confidence  in  your  ability  to  have  your 
agreement  ratified  is  an  actual  fact,  or  whether  you  are 
merely  going  to  rely  on  pretty  preachments  to  them  about 
what  their  religious  duty  is.  If  that  is  what's  in  your 
head,  you're  wasting  my  exceedingly  expensive  morning." 

Philip,  without  hesitation,  gave  him  the  assurance  he 
desired. 

"  I  am  not  basing  my  plans  on  persuasion  at  all.  There 
will  be  no  question  whatever  about  my  power  to  do  what 
I  promise.  There  is  a  bare  chance  of  my  calculations 
going  awry,  but  it's  extremely  remote,  and  by  the  time 
we  come  to  put  our  settlement  into  formal  shape,  I'll  be 
able  to  give  you  an  absolute,  binding  contract.  If  the 
scheme  breaks  down  before  then,  I'll  tell  you  at  once. 
I  don't  see  how  it  can,  unless  you  talk  too  freely  about 
my  confidence  in  my  ability  to  put  the  agreement  through. 

80S 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

I  take  it,  though,  you're  as  anxious  to  end  this  trouble  as 
I  am." 

David  smiled : — 

"  Almost,"  he  replied,  "  perhaps  not  quite.  I  haven't 
come  to  the  point  where  I'd  agree  to  a  surrender." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to,"  Philip  said.  "  I  wouldn't  accept 
a  flat  surrender  from  you  if  you  wished  to  make  it.  I'm 
here  to  agree  on  terms  which  are  fair — and  which  will 
last!" 

"  Good/'  exclaimed  David,  "  only  your  idea  of  the 
meaning  x>f  the  word  '  fair '  .may  not  be  the  same  as  the 
one  in  vogue  in  East  Baltimore.  Still — we'll  see !  " 

"  Don't  you  want  an  affidavit  that  I  haven't  come  from 
Mr.  Kaufman  ?  "  Philip  asked,  with  a  trace  of  malice,  re 
membering  the  suspicions  of  the  committee.  "  Your 
friends'  didn't  seem  to  be  satisfied  with  my  bare  word." 

"  Pooh,"  David  retorted  lightly,  "  I  know  you  don't 
come  from  Kaufman  because  you  say  you  only  want 
what's  fair.  Besides,  you  insult  me  when  you  suppose 
I  reason  like  the  people  you  saw  yesterday.  What  do  I 
care  whether  you  come  from  Kaufman  or  the  devil  him 
self  if  you  can  execute  the  kind  of  agreement  I  want?  I 
can  take  care  of  'myself.  As  for  the  chance  of  your  being 
a  spy,  those  poor  fools  were  just  flattering  you.  I  can't 
play  the  hypocrite  like"  that." 

Philip  allowed  himself  to  be  betrayed  into  a  watery 
smile. 

"  Let's-  get  down  to  definite  terms  then,"  the  lawyer 
resumed,  laying  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  before  him.  "  First 
of  all,  the  Company  must  co-operate  with  me  in  obtain 
ing  the  release  of  Ginzberg.  I  shan't  let  him  be  the  scape 
goat!" 

804 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

"  I'm  satisfied,"  Philip  conceded'  immediately,  "  I  have 
no  wish  to  cause  further  suffering  to  anybody." 

"  Why,  you  speak  as  '  one  having  authority,  and  not 
as  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,'  "  David  quoted  irreverently. 
"  Second,"  he'  went  on,  "  in  some1  form  or  other,  you've 
got  to  recognize  the  Union.  You  -can  see  there  couldn't  be 
any  peace  without  this." 

"  I  never  had  any  other  idea,"  Philip  agreed. 

"  Good,"  exclaimed  David,  "  we're  getting  on  capitally. 
The  question  of  the  form  of  recognition  is  full  of  details. 
We  can  take  them  up  later  since  we  agree  on  the  main 
principle.  Now  the  piece-work  scale,  over  which  the 
trouble  began;  of  course,  there  must  be  some  adjustment 
of  that." 

"  I'm  willing  to  refer  the  whole  question  of  a  scale  to 
competent  authorities,"  was  Philip's  decision.  "  We  can 
both  bind  ourselves  to  abide  by  their  action.  While  they 
investigate  we  can  go  back  to  the  scale  which  was  used 
before.  It  oughtn't  to  take  long." 

David  frowned.  "  Why  drag  in  a  new  element  of  un 
certainty  ?  "  he  argued.  "  You  and  I  can  agree  on  modi 
fications,  here  and  now,  and  leave  no  loose  ends  to  get  tan 
gled  up  later." 

"  No,"  was  Philip's  peremptory  conclusion,  "  I  don't 
understand  the  first  thing  about  a  piece-work  scale  and 
if  I  agreed  to  any  such  plan  as  yours,  I'd  simply  be 
inviting  the  Union  to  dictate  whatever  it  wanted.  I  must 
be  fair  to  both  sides." 

"  We  could  use  the  scale  in  force  in  the  Alpha  Clothing 
Company's  plant,"  the  lawyer  argued  persuasively ;  "  it 
works  there.  They  make  about  the  same  grade  of 
garment." 

*(>  305 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  >No,"  Philip  repeated,  with  emphasis,  "  I  don't  know 
whether  their  scale  is  fair  or  not.  It  may  work  there 
today  and  cause  a  strike  tomorrow.  I'm  not  satisfied 
to  gulp  down  a  dose  about  which  I  know  neither  the 
contents  nor  the  men  who  mixed  it.  We  will  have  a  new 
scale  written  by  men  in  whom  both  of  us  have  complete 
confidence.  The  Company  will  shoulder  the  expense.  You 
can  pick  all  three  of  these  men  yourself,  provided  I  retain 
a  veto  power  on  the  names  you  select.  Certainly,  nothing 
could  be  fairer  than  that ! " 

David's  expression  began  to  take  on  a  new  quality  of 
respect  for  the  Rabbi.  This  boy  was  clearly  not  without 
some  promise.  After  all,  the  lawyer  decided,  there  was 
something  in  being  a  Jew  which  even  reformed  Judaism 
could  not  kill! 

"  Well,"  he  grumbled,  "  I  guess  I'll  have  to  let  you 
have  your  way.  Three  men  to  prepare  the  new  scale; 
we  select  them,  subject  to  your  rejection.  You  pay. 
The  old  prices  to  apply  until  their  report.  Is  that  under 
stood?" 

"  That's  right/'  Philip  said,  taking  the  initiative.  "  The 
next  thing  is  that  all  the  damage  suits  against  the  Com 
pany  must  be  dismissed." 

David  made  a  grimace  which  seemed  to  indicate  a  half- 
humorous  chagrin. 

"  Oh,  come,"  he  complained,  "  the  Company  can  settle 
them  very  cheaply.  They  really  form  no  part  of  an  agree 
ment  between  the  strikers  and  the  Pioneer.  You  leave 
those  to  the  Company's  lawyers." 

Once  more  the  Rabbi  refused  to  be  cajoled. 

"  Neither  does  the  suit  between  the  State  of  Maryland 
and  your  client  Ginzberg  form  part  of  such  a  settlement, 

306 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

if  you  want  to  stand  on  formalities.  I'm  not  counting 
the  money  to  be  saved  or  spent.  Those  suits  were  brought 
as  moves  in  the  strike,  and  now  that  we're  ending  the 
strike  the  cases  must  be  abandoned." 

David  stared  at  Philip  for  a  minute  as  though  trying 
to  discover  whether  a  determind  show  of  opposition  would        , 
be  apt  to  shake  his  resolution.    Then  apparently  deciding     / 
the  young  idealist  was  not  to  be  budged  from  his  position 
— and  remembering  the  comparative  unimportance  of  the 
matter — he  allowed  himself  to  smile,  and  imitating  the 
dialect  of  a  negro  servant,  to  exclaim  in  tones  of  exagger 
ated  terror  and  respect: 

"  All  right !  boss !  All  right,  jes'  as  you  say,  boss !  '; 

"  It's  only  fair,"  Philip  remarked  coolly,  as  though 
closing  this  phase  of  their  negotiations. 

David  permitted  himself  the  luxury  of  a  little  lecture 
to  this  professional  teacher  of  ethics. 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  he  told  him,  "  and  we'll  let  it  stand 
as  you  wish.  But  you've  got  to  remember  one  thing — 
disputes  like  these  (or  any  other  kind,  for  that  matter), 
can't  always  be  adjusted  according  to  cold,  Sabbath- 
School  dogmas  of  abstract  justice.  There  must  be  a 
reasonable  degree  of  give  and  take,  not  based  on  any 
theories  at  all  except  the  fighting  man's  genial  desire  to 
carry  home  a  bit  of  his  foeman's  skin,  to  exhibit  as  a 
trophy  to  the  admiring  women- folk.  After  you  get  that 
idea  well  into  your  mind,  I'm  afraid  you'll  make  a 
shrewd  trader,  some  day,  in  spite  of  yourself." 

Philip  shook  his  head.  "  I  hate  fighting,"  he  admitted, 
"  and  I  don't  like  trade  much  better." 

"  You'll  deserve  just  so  much  more  credit  if  you  do 
learn  to  fight  reasonably  well,"  was  the  lawyer's  comment 

307 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  As  for  trade,  it  is  only  a  less  boyish  form  of  fighting. 
However,  to  return  to  our  job — what  else  do  you  want?  " 

"  I'd  like  some  provision  for  a  permanent  board  of 
arbitration  for  the  adjustment  of  any  future  disputes  as 
they  may  arise."  Philip,  forgetful  for  a  moment  of  him 
self  and  his  intimate  unhappiness,  put  into  his  words  some 
faint  glow  of  his  habitual  enthusiasm. 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  David,  "  I  was  expecting  the  visionary 
in  you  to  crop  out  somewhere.  Well,  I'll  talk  your  thought 
over  with  our  crowd,  and  see  what  can  be  done,  but  you 
mustn't  indulge  too  many  hopes.  Working  men  can't 
rake  up  any  uncontrollable  affection  for  arbitration  tri 
bunals.  They  have  such  a  noticeable  habit  of  seeing  the 
employers'  point  of  viev; !  " 

"  Perhaps,"  the  Rabbi  struck  in  sharply,  "  that's  be 
cause  the  working  man's  demands  are  so  often  unfair." 

"  Perhaps,"  David  conceded  cheerfully.  "  Anyhow, 
the  laborer  perceives  how  the  decisions  affect  him  and  he 
prefers  his  own  crude  weapons." 

"  But  arbitration  is  the  only  sensible  way,"  Philip 
began  dogmatically. 

"  Logical,  you  mean — not  sensible,"  David  interrupted. 
"  You  will  forget  the  difference.  The  laborers'  demands 
are  very  often  unjust  as  you  so  unhesitatingly  remarked. 
Therefore,  logical  people  refuse  them — arbitration  boards, 
oftenest  of  all.  But  it  isn't  always  sense,  to  deny  an  unjust 
demand." 

"  I  can't  see  it,"  Philip  protested.  "  The  laboring  man 
and  his  employer  have  each  a  right  to  exact  justice — 
neither  more  nor  less." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  that  word,"  David 
answered.  "  Nobody  does — the  Judges  least  of  all.  Look 

308 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

here !  Everybody  has  a  peculiar  desire  to  live  more  com 
fortably  next  year  than  he  did  last  year.  It  isn't  rational. 
It  may  be  bad  for  the  soul, — stressing  as  it  does  the  things 
of  the  flesh  instead  of  the  spirit.  Still  it's  prevalent.  Even 
I  allow  myself  to  become  influenced  by  it.  Now,  this 
instinct  isn't  so  baffling  for  the  employer.  He  adds  a  few 
cents  on  to  the  price  of  the  article  he  sells,  or  shaves  a 
little  more  than  a  few  cents  worth  from  its  quality,  and 
behold,  next  year's  automobile  has  been  paid  for,  and 
no  one  has  been  sufficiently  injured  to  get  up  and  howl. 
The  laboring  man  has  no  one  to  squeeze  but  his  boss. 
If  he  wants  some  absurd  little  luxury,  there's  only  one 
paymaster  for  him  to  browbeat." 

Philip's  dissent  was  expressed  in  terms  of  orthodox 
economics. 

"  The  true  interest  of  the  employer  and  his  employees 
is  identical,"  was  his  thesis.  "  Neither  can  inflict  an 
injury  on  the  other  without  damaging  himself." 

David  snorted  scornfully. 

"  The  true  interest  of  myself  and  the  lawyer  on  the 
other  side  of  my  case  is  identical.  We're  both  inter 
ested  in  having  litigation  continued  according  to  the 
rules  we  know,  and  keeping  it  reasonably  expensive.  That 
doesn't  prevent  me  from  sitting  up  nights  trying  to  out 
wit  him ! " 

Philip  was  interested  and  would  have  been  glad  to 
probe  more  deeply  into  the  subject.  But  David,  recalling, 
perhaps,  how  much  time  they  had  already  been  closeted 
together,  began  to  check  off  on  his  memorandum  sheet 
the  points  they  had  agreed  upon,  and  seemed  anxious  to 
bring  the  conference  to  a  close. 

"  I'll  make  a  detailed  draft  of  the  whole  thing,"  he 

809 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

promised,  "  and  submit  it  to  you  in  a  day  or  two.  We 
seem  to  be  pretty  close  together.  Of  course,  there'll  still 
be  odds  and  ends  where  each  of  us  will  have  to  use  some 
forbearance.  The  rights  in  your  shop,  for  example,  of 
the  officers  of  the  Union." 

"  We  won't  quarrel  there,"  was  the  Rabbi's  confident 
prophecy.  "  I  want  the  Union  to  have  a  fair  share  of 
power,  and  to  accept  a  corresponding  amount  of  responsi 
bility." 

David,  this  time,  did  not  allow  himself  to  smile.  He 
saw  a  chance  of  wresting,  through  the  Rabbi's  academic 
theories,  a  substantial  advantage  for  the  men  he  was  rep 
resenting,  and  he  merely  nodded. 

"  I'll  see  what  I  can  frame  up  along  those  lines,"  he 
stated  with  a  grim,  hidden  meaning. 

"  Good !  "  Philip  said,  reaching  for  his  hat.  "  I  guess 
that's  about  all.  Telephone  me  when  you  want  me  again. 
I'll  hold  myself  subject  to  your  call." 

"Thank  you,"  David  responded.  "  I  believe  we've  done 
a  good  morning's  work.  I'll  try  to  be  vague  with  the 
strikers  for  the  present.  Only  I  may  assure  them,  of 
course,  if  we  agree  on  a  peace,  there  are  no  exceptions  to 
be  made  because  of  anybody's  activity  during  the  strike  ? 
Everybody  gets  his  old  place  back;  that's  your  under 
standing,  isn't  it?" 

Philip  stopped  to  consider.  He  really  had  only  the 
most  nebulous  ideas  regarding  the  actual  management 
of  the  plant. 

"That's  elementary,"  David  added,  surprised  at  the 
Rabbi's  delay. 

"Of  course,"  Philip  said  slowly,  " nobody  is  to  be 
barred  from  work  because  of  anything  he  did  during  the 

310 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

strike.  I  never  considered  such  a  thing;  but  about  his 
old  job,  I  don't  know.  I'll  have  to  find  out  about  that. 
Lots  of  these  places  have  been  filled  by  new  men.  We'll 
have  to  expand  a  bit  to  take  care  of  all  of  them.  Your 
men  may  not  be  able  to  return  in  a  body ;  but  that  won't 
matter.  Tell  them  they're  to  have  their  old  jobs,  or  others, 
at  just  as  good  wages.  And  if  there's  delay  in  putting 
them  to  work,  they  shall  be  paid  in  the  meantime." 

The  young  man  waited  confidently  for  the  acknowl 
edgment  of  his  marked  generosity.  He  was  surprised  to 
find  David  looking  at  him  in  blank  amazement. 

"  Why,  you  are  not  thinking  of  giving  permanent 
employment  to  the  strikebreakers  ?  "  he  exploded,  incredu 
lously.  "  You  don't  expect  our  men  to  work  side  by  side 
with  these  'scabs?'  It  can't  be  done!  You  might  just 
as  well  try  to  mix  oil  and  water." 

Philip  set  his  lips  in  a  stern  line  of  unyielding 
determination. 

"  What  else  did  you  expect?  "  he  demanded.  "  I  told 
you  I  intended  to  deal  fairly  with  all  interests.  I've  cer 
tainly  shown  you  that  much.  The  Pioneer  Company 
brought  these  people  to  their  plant — many  of  them  from 
Rochester  and  New  York.  I  don't  say  they  should  have, 
but  they  did.  These  '  scabs ' — as  you  call  them — were 
begged  to  work  there  when  there  was  some  danger  in 
doing  it.  Now  I  don't  intend  to  turn  them  adrift  to  hunt 
around  for  new  jobs,  or  to  starve.  It  would  be  abhorrent. 
I  won't  do  it !  " 

David's  expression  was  one  of  mock-heroic  despair. 

"  It's  no  use,"  he  groaned.  "  You're  incorrigible !  Are 
you  perfectly  serious?  Because,  if  you  are,  we  might  as 
well  stop  work  here  and  now." 

311 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Philip  began  to  argue  the  point,  volubly  and  with  a 
sincere  conviction  in  the  absolute  rectitude  of  his  position. 

David  broke  into  his  discourse  with  scant  ceremony. 

"  There's  not  a  bit  of  use  in  your  talking  about  it !  " 
he  announced.  "  What  you  suggest  is  less  possible  than 
electing  Kaufman  as  President,  on  the  Socialist  ticket. 
The  more  you  listen  to  yourself  the  less  open  to  reason 
you'll  be,  and  you've  got  to  hear  reason.  It  would  be  a 
pity  to  break  things  off  at  this  stage.  My  waiting-room 
is  jammed.  I  can't  talk  to  you  any  longer,  now.  Come 
back  in  three  hours  and  I'll  try  to  corrupt  you  enough  to 
make  you  forget  this  little  scruple." 

In  three  hours  to  the  minute,  Philip  returned  and 
David,  eyeing  him  with  his  peculiar  disconcerting  smile, 
began  to  belabor  him  with  plausible  words. 

"  I  told  you  this  morning,"  the  lawyer  explained,  "  the 
impossibility  of  following  pretty  words  and  phrases  in 
dealing  with  the  passions  of  angry  men.  This  word  '  jus 
tice  *  has  gone  to  your  head.  You're  reeling  drunk  with 
it.  I'll  grant  you  without  argument  the  hardship  upon 
these  strikebreakers  of  turning  them  adrift;  but  this  is 
not  a  world  of  love-making  between  enemies.  These 
*  scabs '  came  here  knowing  perfectly  well  the  chances 
they  took.  Theirs  is  the  fortune  of  war.  You've  got  to 
chbose  between  hurting  them  and  hurting  the  strikers." 

Philip  could  not  accept  this  as  a  fair  statement  of  his 
alternative.  The  strikers  could  come  back  to  work  and 
the  new  employees  could  work  beside  them.  Neither  need 
suffer.  Only  stubbornness  prevented  such  a  solution. 

"  But  if  they're  made  that  way,"  the  lawyer  thundered, 
"what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  Tell  them  how 
naughty  they  are!  You  might  as  well  tell  them  how 

312 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

thriftless  they  are  to  marry  and  beget  children,  when 
you  could  prove  by  the  simplest  arithmetic  how  little 
they  can  afford  such  an  indulgence!  You've  got  to  deal 
with  men  as  they  are !  They  won't  go  back  to  work  unless 
you  discharge  these  people,  and  you've  just  got  to  make 
up  your  mind  to  it ! " 

Philip  felt  sure  David  could  make  them  see  the 
cruelty  of  such  a  demand  if  he  set  himself  to  the  task. 
He,  himself,  he  added,  would  be  able  to  do  it  if  they 
could  be  brought  to  think  of  him  as  a  friend. 

"  It's  ideas  like  these,"  David  insisted  brutally,  "  which 
will  always  keep  them  from  thinking  of  you  as  anything 
but  a  stranger.  What  do  they  care  if  they're  cruel  or  not  ? 
They  want  to  hurt  these  '  scabs ! '  They  believe  the  one 
business  in  life  of  a  '  scab '  is  to  take  the  bread  from 
honest  men's  mouths !  " 

"  But  you  know  better,"  Philip  reproved.  "  You  know 
the  strikebreaker,  like  the  Union  •man,  works  because 
he's  hungry  and  his  wife  and  babies  are  hungry." 

"  Can't  you  understand,"  Davided  demanded,  "  it  isn't 
a  question  of  what  I  see?  I'm  not  the  man  who  is  going 
to  press  vests  for  Kaufman,  any  more  than  you  are.  If 
these  fellows  had  sense  enough  to  grasp  your  fine  distinc 
tions,  they'd  be  preaching  sermons  or  practicing  law, 
instead  of  pressing  vests." 

Still,  Philip  remained-  unmoved.  The  discussion  be 
gan,  to  David's  disgust,  to  go  around  and  around  in  a  cir 
cle,  the  Rabbi  insisting  upon  the  sinfulness  of  the  ejec 
tion  of  the  strikebreakers,  the  lawyer  emphasizing  the 
impossibility  of  peace  on  any  other  basis.  At  last,  Philip, 
unable  .to  make  any  headway  in  a  debate  where  neither 
opponent  was  willing  to  concede  the  truth  of  what  the 

313 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

other  assumed  to  be  axiomatic,  made  an  effort  to  bring 
this  fruitless  exchange  of  words  to  an  end. 

"  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I  don't  seem  able 
to  make  you  understand  that  I  consider  an  unjust  peace 
as  bad  as  no  peace  at  all." 

"  Exactly  t "  Gordon  snapped  out,  "  because  you're 
thinking  of  what  you  call  '  justice '  and  I'm  thinking  of 
suffering  men  and  women." 

"  Which  set  of  men  and  women  ?  "  Philip  could  not 
resist  asking. 

"  The  largest  number,"  David  answered.  "  It's  a 
school-boy's  problem  in  mathematics !  " 

Philip  continued :  "  Of  course,  this  won't  make  any 
difference  in  your  point  of  view,  but  I've  made  enormous 
sacrifices  to  put  myself  in  a  position  to  end  this  strike. 
I've  paid  a  price  I  couldn't  have  believed  possible. 
Wouldn't  it  seem  strange  to  you  if  I'd  be  willing  to  have 
gone  through  all  this  for  something  which  seemed  to  be 
base  and  degrading,  instead  of  a  work  I  could  be  proud 
of?  If  I've  forced  myself  to  do  this  because  I  thought 
it  a  duty,  haven't  I  a  right  to  expect  others  to  rise  above 
a  blind,  angry  prejudice?  " 

David  was  swept  from  his  habitual  pose  by  this  frank, 
boyish  appeal.  He  rose  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  Rabbi's 
shoulder. 

"  Would  it  help  you  to  tell  me  about  it — in  confidence, 
this  time?  "  he  suggested,  with  a  gentleness  so  unexpected 
as  to  startle  his  visitor. 

Philip  shook  his  head  sadly.  His  wound  was  not  such 
as  could  be  bared  to  anyone.  "  It's  too  late,"  he  replied ; 
"thanks,  just  the  same.  I  wasn't  making  a  play  for 
sympathy,  but  you  see  what  I  mean  ?  " 

314 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

"  Yes,  I  see/'  the  lawyer  said  gravely,  "  but  if  your 
pain  has  led  you  to  do  something  for  other  men  and 
women  who  are  unhappy,  don't  let  it  be  wasted  in  idle 
wishing.  You  can't  do  the  things  you  want  to  do.  Do 
the  next  best  thing!  Do  it  even  if  you  have  to  add  to 
your  other  sacrifices  some  of  your  theories  of  what  ought 
to  be  done !  " 

Philip  considered  the  question  for  a  long  time  in  silence. 
Then  he  rose,  suddenly,  and  said : 

"  I'm  sorry.  I  can't  do  it.  I  would  if  I  could,  but 
I  think  it  would  be  better  to  close  the  plant  altogether.  If 
your  people  can  be  made  happy  only  by  doing  this  cruelty 
to  the  others,  I  don't  think  they've  any  right  to  happiness. 
At  any  rate,  I  couldn't  have  a  part  in  bringing  it  about." 

The  two  men  stood  side  by  side,  regarding  each  other 
seriously.  At  last  David  spoke: 

"  I'll  go  as  far  as  I  can  to  prevent  what  I'm  sure  is 
going  to  happen.  I'll  urge  the  strikers  to  accept  your 
condition.  I'll  argue  for  it  although  I  think  it's  unwise, 
foolish,  and  sure  to  cause  a  recurrence  of  the  trouble, 
pretty  soon.  But  I  shan't  try  to  force  it  on  them.  That 
would  be  wrong.  I'll  do  what  I  can,  but  it  won't  work. 
It's  against  human  nature." 

To  Philip  there  came  a  swift  inspiration. 

"  You  may  tell  them  still  more,"  he  urged.  "  We'll 
make  the  strikebreakers  join  the  Union  as  the  price  of 
their  retention.  Surely,  that  ought  to  satisfy  your  com 
mittee;  but  they  must  be  treated  decently  in  the  Union, 
and  out  of  it." 

David  grasped  the  Rabbi's  hand. 

"  You're  a  good  fellow,  Doctor,  but  you  don't  know 
much  about  the  curious  animal  known  as  Man ;  the  strikers 
would  think  their  Union  polluted  by  these  people.  They'd 

315 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

hate  them  all  the  more  if  they  were  forced  on  them. 
They'd  treat  them  like  dogs.  No,  that  scheme  won't  do. 
I'll  talk  it  over  with  our  crowd  and  let  you  hear  from  me." 

Philip  went  directly  to  Ruth's  home  to  warn  her  to  buy 
no  more  stock  until  this  cloud  should  be  dissipated.  The 
report  he  made  to  her  threw  her  plans  into  a  state  of  com 
plete  confusion.  She  was  not  concerned  because  of  the 
shares  she  had  already  bought.  She  could  dispose  of  them 
without  appreciable  loss,  or  better  still,  hold  them  and 
profit  by  the  rise  which  was  sure  to  come  when  the  strike 
should,  some  day,  be  brought  to  an  end.  It  was  Philip 
himself  about  whom  she  was  troubled.  She  did  not  know, 
of  course,  of  Ellen's  departure.  All  she  was  able  to  fore 
see  was  the  complete  wreck  of  her  carefully-prepared 
device  for  capturing  and  holding  Philip's  interest.  If  he 
should  abandon  his  efforts  to  effect  a  settlement,  she 
would  have  no  further  excuses  for  these  daily  consulta 
tions — no  more  important  secrets  to  be  shared  with  him — 
no  claim  on  his  gratitude  save  the  faint  one  of  her  good 
intentions.  Above  all,  she  would  have  lost  the  power  of 
separating  him  from  the  alien  woman  for  whom  he  had 
betrayed  an  absurd  infatuation. 

To  Ruth,  the  Rabbi's  scruples  regarding  the  discharge 
of  the  strikebreakers  seemed  absurdly  unimportant.  She 
would  cheerfully  have  pensioned  them  for  life  or  had  them 
boiled  in  oil,  to  accomplish  her  designs.  There  weren't 
many  of  them  after  all.  Philip — lovable  as  he  was — cer 
tainly  was  an  uncomfortable  sort  of  man. 

She  could  not,  however,  allow  one  of  these  disconcert 
ing  reflections  to  escape  in  words,  and  this  restriction  was 
the  most  irritating  part  of  it  all.  Any  argument  she  might 
urge  for  the  abandonment  of  his  position  would  identify 
her  in  his  mind  as  a  girl  incapable  of  a  real  devotion  to 

316 


A  MATTER  OF  DEFINITION 

Truth  and  Justice.  Also,  it  would  imply  an  adverse  criti 
cism  upon  his  judgment,  and  no  man,  she  reflected,  is 
broad  enough  to  tolerate  that. 

So  she  was  forced  to  content  herself  with  mere  ex 
pressions  of  sympathy  and  hopes  for  the  ultimate  adjust 
ment  of  the  dispute.  She  hinted  vaguely  at  some  com 
promise  whereby  the  strikebreakers  might  be  discharged 
with  a  secret  agreement  on  the  part  of  the  Company  to 
continue  the  payment  of  wages  to  them  until  they  should 
have  found  employment  elsewhere;  but  Philip  rejected 
the  idea  indignantly.  There  was  a  real  principle  involved 
in  an  employer  being  loyal  to  the  men  who  had  been 
loyal  to  him;  he  would  not  yield  this  point — no  matter 
what  happened.  It  would  be  cowardly,  irreligious  and  a 
bad  beginning  for  the  administration  of  an  industry  upon 
the  basis  of  Equity  and  Fair  Dealing. 

With  this  unsatisfactory  condition  of  affairs,  Ruth 
was  obliged  to  content  herself.  She  awaited  with  such 
slight  patience  as  she  could  command,  the  result  of  further 
meetings  between  Philip  and  David  Gordon.  Here,  again, 
her  hopes  proved  futile.  The  strikers  absolutely  and 
contemptuously  refused  to  work,  side  by  side,  with  men 
they  believed  to  be  professional  strikebreakers.  In  vain 
David  argued  the  probability  of  the  speedy  flight  of  such 
unreliable  birds  of  passage;  without  avail  he  hinted  at 
valuable  concessions  he  might  obtain  from  this  guileless 
young  Rabbi — concessions  which  could  never  be  wrung 
from  hard-headed  business  men.  The  strikers  remained 
as  obdurate  as  Philip  himself.  Ruth  made  no  further 
efforts  to  wrest  the  control  of  the  Company  from 
Clarence  Kaufman,  and  the  miniature  civil  war,  with  its 
newspaper  sensations  and  its  petty  outbursts  of  disorder, 
continued  its  course,  as  before. 

317 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

Ruth,  who  made  it  her  business  to  glean  some  secret 
data  regarding  Philip's  routine  of  life,  soon  indulged  a  rea 
sonable  certainty  of  a  break  in  his  visits  to  the  "  objec 
tionable  woman."  That  was  something  gained,  to  be  sure. 
Still,  he  displayed  no  desire  to  spend  much  time  with 
Ruth — or  with  anyone  else  for  that  matter.  Inwardly  his 
spirit  was  raging  at  the  monstrous  irony  of  which  he 
felt  himself  the  victim.  He  had  been  led  to  believe  in  his 
special  fitness  for  a  great  mission;  his  opportunity  had 
come  to  him ;  he  had  accepted  it  without  a  suspicion  of  its 
spurious  quality, — embraced  it  with  what  now  turned  out 
to  be  grotesque  posturings  and  grandiloquent  phrases ;  he 
had  paid  for  it  grievously  in  the  loss  of  Ellen,  and  when 
he  had  laid  down  the  price,  he  found  he  had  been 
tricked, — made  colossally  ridiculous,  like  some  poor,  stupid 
boy,  at  a  country  fair,  who  is  led  to  part  with  all  his 
precious  savings  for  a  brightly-gilded  block  of  worthless 
iron,  and  hears  nothing  but  peals  of  laughter  when  he 
tells  the  story  of  his  tragedy.  Even  the  mechanism  of 
his  failure  seemed  absurd  to  the  unhappy  minister.  It  was 
his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Justice  which  had  made  it  im 
possible  for  him  to  accomplish  Justice ;  because  he  wanted 
to  serve  all  men  he  was  unable  to  serve  any.  It  was  the 
best  in  him,  and  not  the  worst,  which  had  been  his  undoing. 

He  had  said  something  like  this,  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  disappointment,  to  David  Gordon,  when  they  had 
parted  at  the  end  of  their  final,  unsuccessful  interview. 
David  had  favored  him  with  his  cryptic  smile,  and 
answered : 

"  My  dear  Doctor,  the  stag  is  a  beautiful  and  poetic 
animal.  If  you  were  to  yoke  him  to  a  cart  with  an  ox, 
he'd  die ;  and  he  wouldn't  help  the  ox  much,  either !  " 

318 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

ONE  afternoon,  about  a  fortnight  after  Philip's  unsuc 
cessful  attempt  to  act  as  peace-maker,  David  Gordon 
sprang  from  a  street-car  before  it  had  come  to  a  full 
stop,  and  hurried  up  the  steps  of  the  most  fashionable 
and  exclusive  club  in  the  City. 

It  was  a  wonderful  afternoon,  holding  the  first  promise 
of  the  advent  of  Spring.  Although  the  air  was  still  cool, 
there  was  a  hint  of  Winter's  end,  in  the  brilliant  sunshine, 
in  the  budding  trees  which  lined  North  Charles  Street, 
and  in  the  dainty  costumes  of  the  pretty  girls  who  strolled 
along  the  Avenue.  It  was  one  of  those  day  when  Balti 
more  deserves,  and  receives,  a  free  pardon  for  any  crimes 
its  climate  may  perpetrate  in  the  midst  of  Summer  or 
Winter. 

David,  however,  seemed  completely  insensible  to  the 
beauty  of  his  surroundings.  The  Club  he  was  entering  was 
one  of  which  he  knew  perfectly  well  he  could  never  become 
a  member — no  matter  to  what  other  distinctions  he  might 
rise.  Within  its  walls  there  was  enforced  an  unwritten 
law  which  proclaimed  a  Christian  imbecile  a  more  appro 
priate  member  than  a  Jewish  sage — assuming  there  was 
such  a  creature.  David  was  unable  to  cherish  any  resent 
ment  at  this  state  of  affairs.  His  feelings  toward  the  Club 
and  the  civic  aspirations  which  gave  it  birth,  were  no 
more  cordial  or  respectful  than  the  Club's  toward  him. 

As  he  entered  its  sacred  portals  and  hurriedly  ordered 
the  door-man  to  announce  him  to  Mr.  Frame,  he  was 

319 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

not  even  conscious  of  any  increased  importance  in  stand 
ing  within  these  superlatively-genteel  precincts.  He 
merely  wondered  why  busy  and  important  men,  like 
Frame,  cared  to  lounge  around  such  places,  talking  to  pin- 
headed  manikins. 

He  was  led  into  a  private  room  where  four  men,  con 
siderably  beyond  middle  age,  were  seated  around  a  table. 
All  of  them  were  smoking  fat  cigars,  and  the  figures  of 
three  of  them  seemed  to  have  been  patterned  after  the 
cigars,  or  the  cigars  selected  to  conform  with  their  figures. 
The  fourth  man,  John  Frame,  was  as  lean  as  David. 
Whatever  might  be  alleged  against  the  gross  tonnage 
of  this  quartet,  no  one  of  them  had  a  commonplace 
face;  the  waiter  who  served  them  would  probably  have 
exclaimed,  in  reverent  wonder,  on  the  aggregate  number 
of  million  dollars  represented  when  they  sat  down  to 
dine  together;  they,  themselves,  if  they  had  not  learned 
from  their  wives  and  daughters  the  bad  taste  of  anything 
approaching  vulgar  boasting,  would  have  preferred  to 
direct  attention  to  the  ability  of  their  combined  number 
to  make  any  business  man  in  the  City  do)  their  bidding 
after  a  more  or  less  extended  course  of  such  agreeable 
persuasion,  by  word  and  deed,  as  they  knew  how  to 
administer. 

When  David  Gordon  entered  the  room,  and  the  door 
had  been  closed  behind  him,  none  of  the  four  arose,  nor 
was  anyone  sufficiently  formal  to  invite  him  to  sit  down. 
David  drew  a  chair  to  the  table  without  waiting  to  be 
asked.  He  himself  was  no  great  believer  in  ceremony,  and 
it  pleased  him  to  be  convinced  that  these  financial  poten 
tates  had  as  bad  manners  as  his  own. 

"Gordon,"  began  Mr.  Frame,  "we've  sent  for  you 
320 


THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

because  you  are  a  practical  man.  We've  all  done  busi 
ness  with  you  before,  and  we  know  you  can  understand 
sense  when  you  hear  it,  and  put  things  across."  He 
paused,  awaiting  some  bashful  acknowledgment  of  this 
glowing  tribute.  It  came  promptly. 

"  Thanks,"  David  replied,  with  his  elusive  smile. 
"  You  would  certainly  note  my  blushes — only  we  have 
such  swarthy  complexions — we  Jews !  " 

Somebody  gasped  at  such  a  flagrant  tone  of  disrespect, 
but  Frame  rather  liked  Gordon's  impudence,  and  David 
was  perfectly  well  aware  of  the  fact. 

"Won't  you  have  a  drink?"  one  of  the  other  men 
suggested  by  way  of  interlude. 

"  No,"  David  answered,  smiling  again,  "thanks  just.the 
same.  I  don't  drink  at  all,  but  if  I  did,  I  wouldn't  now." 

Nobody  remembered  to  offer  him  a  cigar  and  he  calmly 
drew  one  of  his  own  from  his  case  and  proceeded  to  light 
it.  Mr.  Frame  resumed  his  remarks : 

"  Well,  Gordon,  we've  come  to  the  conclusion  this 
Pioneer  strike  has  been  going  on  long  enough, — too  long ! 
It's  beginning  to  hurt  business,  generally.  It's  threaten 
ing  to  keep  Capital  out  of  the  City — particularly  now 
when  all  sorts  of  financial  operations  are  under  way.  It's 
got  to  stop.  I  don't  know  where  all  the  money  the  strikers 
have  used  has  come  from,  but  I  suppose  whoever's  putting 
it  up  could  reconcile  himself  to  the  pain  of  having  his 
sport  spoiled." 

He  looked  at  David  narrowly  as  though  he  might  per 
haps  learn  something  interesting  about  the  contributions 
to  the  expenses  of  the  strike,  but  David  merely  continued 
to  wear  his  exasperating  smile. 

Mr.  Frame  swiftly  re-enforced  his  determination  with 

21  321 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

the  recollection  of  the  banks  he  controlled  and  the  avenues 
of  commerce  he  dominated ;  he  cast  a  swift  glance  around 
the  table  at  his  colleagues  with  their  similar  titles  to  power. 

"  We've  decided !  "  he  repeated.  "  The  thing's  got  to 
stop." 

"  You  make  me  very  happy,  gentlemen,"  was  the  law 
yer's  comment.  "  I  myself  have  always  pushed  my  love 
for  peace  and  conciliation  to  a  point  almost  absurd.  But 
I  have  no  influence  whatever  over  Mr.  Kaufman.  I  think 
you  should  have  spoken  to  him.  It  surprises  me  some 
times  to  reflect  how  a  man  and  a  merchant  can  be  so 
stubborn." 

Frame  smiled  meaningly. 

"  He's  a  little  less  stubborn  than  he  was  yesterday.  I 
had  a  talk  with  him.  The  four  of  us  control,  directly  or 
indirectly,  all  his  banking  connections.  We  had  a  mighty 
serious  sort  of  talk.  That's  why  I  sent  for  you." 

David  nodded. 

"  Of  course,"  Frame  went  on,  "  Kaufman's  a  big  cus 
tomer  of  the  banks,  and  his  industry  is  important  to  the 
City.  He  has  to  make  some  concessions,  but  we  don't 
intend  to  have  him  humiliated.  You  understand  ?  " 

David  nodded  again. 

"  Humiliating  Kaufman  wouldn't  interest  me,"  he 
observed.  "  No  one  could  be  sure  he  hadn't  done  it  to 
himself.  Give  me  the  things  I  want,  and  he  can  advertise 
the  result  as  a  glorious  victory !  " 

"  You  can't  have  all  you  want,  and  neither  can  he," 
was  Frame's  flat  ultimatum.  "  You've  got  sense  enough 
to  know  that.  That's  why  we  sent  for  you.  You've  known 
that  for  weeks." 

"  Very  well,  sir !  "  David  said  briskly.    "  You  gentle- 

322 


THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

men  are  too  big  to  haggle  with.  Tell  me  what  I  can 
get,  and  I'll  tell  you  without  a  minute's  delay  whether 
I'll  accept  it." 

"  That's  the  kind  of  talk  I  like  to  hear,"  Frame  ex 
claimed.  "  You  can  force  your  men  to  stand  behind  your 
agreements,  I  take  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  like  the  Czar,"  David  said ;  "  my  word  is  abso 
lute  law,  but  if  I  stretch  my  despotism  too  far,  I'm  apt  to 
lose  my  head." 

"  Suppose  you  tell  us  then  how  far  you  can  stretch 
it,"  demanded  Frame. 

"  Very  well,"  began  David,  "  to  begin  with,  Kaufman 
recognizes  the  Union.  There's  no  avoiding  that !  " 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  Frame  interrupted.  "  It  depends 
on  what  you  mean.  He's  got  to  recognize  the  Union.  The 
other  clothing  men  have  all  come  to  it,  but  we  won't 
force  Kaufman  to  have  a  closed  shop.  That's  a  step  we'll 
never  take.  If  it's  your  idea  to  shut  everyone  but  Union 
men  out  of  the  plant,  we  might  just  as  well  stop  talking 
here  and  now !  " 

A  stupider  man  would  have  pretended  to  insist  on  his 
full  demand  in  the  hope  of  thereby  gaining  the  largest 
possible  fragment  of  what  he  had  claimed.  David  took 
exactly  the  opposite  course. 

"  No  need  to  argue  it,  Mr.  Frame,"  he  conceded ;  "  I 
never  expected  anything  so  drastic — an  open  shop,  of 
course,  but  with  a  few  assurances.  If  our  settlement  went 
no  further,  what  reason  would  we  have  to  expect  Kauf 
man  ever  to  employ  a  Union  man  as  long  as  he  could  find 
another  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  admitted  Mr.  Frame  frankly ; 
"he'd  be  a  fool  if  he  did." 

823 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  Just  so,"  David  said,  "  and  he  isn't  a  fool — at  least 
not  that  kind.  An  open  shop  then,  with  an  agreement 
for  the  employment,  at  all  times,  of  seventy-five  per  cent. 
of  Union  members,  provided  the  Union  can  furnish  them 
— no  man  to  be  discharged  because  of  his  Union  activities 
—how's  that?" 

"  The  percentage  is  too  high,"  struck  in  one  of  the 
other  capitalists  indignantly.  "  Seventy-five  per  cent !  " 

"  Sixty,  then,"  was  David's  genial  correction.  He 
had  expected  to  be  cut  down  to  fifty,  and  was  more  than 
satisfied  when  his  suggestion  was  accepted. 

"  Well,  there's  so  much  accomplished,"  said  Frame. 
"What's  next?" 

"  The  strikebreakers  have  got  to  go,"  David  insisted — 
and  then  before  any  of  his  judges  should  have  committed 
himself  to  an  opinion,  he  continued:  "  I'm  urging  this  as 
much  for  the  sake  of  the  general  welfare  as  our  own. 
You  know  they're  a  dangerous  set  of  men.  The  City  will 
be  better  without  them.  Besides,  if  you  make  us  give  in 
on  this  point,  you'll  have  all  your  trouble  over  again  in  a 
month.  These  '  scabs '  will  get  -along  with  the  strikers 
about  as  peacefully  as  a  match  and  a  keg  of  gunpowder." 

The  four  men  shook  their  heads  sagely.  They  had  no 
desire  to  have  this  disturbance  to  settle  a  second  time.  The 
lawyer  gave  a  whimsical  thought  to  Philip  Graetz,  and 
his  theories  about  Justice,  and  passed  on  to  the  next 
question. 

"  The  new  wage  scale,''  he  began 

"  That  wage  scale  is  all  right,"  interrupted  one  of  the 
men  who  had  not  yet  spoken,  "  I've  gone  through  it  from 
top  to  bottom.  It's  the  most  liberal  in  town.  My  judgment 
is  not  to  press  Kaufman  on  that.  Good  Lord !  the  man's 
got  some  rights." 

MM 


THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

The  point  was  argued  at  considerable  length.  David 
was  not  able  to  point  out  anything  particularly  unfair 
about  the  proposed  scheme  of  wages.  He  could  only 
stress  the  inability  of  the  workers  to  understand  its  rather 
complicated  terms,  and  speak  of  the  consequent  distrust 
with  which  they  regarded  it. 

"  Very  good,  then,"  was  Frame's  brutal  way  of  ending 
the  discussion,  "  get  it  translated  into  the  jargon  they  talk, 
or  hire  a  school-teacher  to  explain  it  to  them.  The  wage 
scale  stands." 

David  finally  yielded  the  point,  realizing  how  unten 
able  his  position  would  be  if  the  strike  continued  upon 
that  single  issue.  He  complained  that  he  was  receiving 
harsher  treatment  upon  this  point  than  if  he  had  been 
dealing  directly  with  the  Pioneer  Company,  Kaufman 
having  always  been  willing  to  arbitrate  the  matter  of 
wages,  but  the  four  unanimously  tossed  at  him  the  same 
argument  he  had  used  against  Philip. 

"No  arbitration!"  they  all  cried  stridently.  '-'We 
want  to  get  done  with  the  whole  thing, — now,  with 
out  delays." 

One  by  one,  the  various  items  in  the  dispute  were 
thus  adjusted.  At  the  very  end,  David  remarked 
casually : 

"Of  course,  the  prosecution  of  Ginzberg  is  to  be 
dropped.  I  nearly  forgot  to  mention  it." 

"  I  don't  know,"  Frame  hesitated.  "  Law  and  order, 
you  know — Capital  is  exceedingly  timid " 

"  Capitalists  aren't — and  they've  no  legitimate  excuse 
for  being  too  squeamish,  either,"  David  retorted  dryly. 
"  Look  here,  gentlemen,  I've  promised  this  man  his  liberty. 
He's  got  to  have  it.  That's  my  price." 

"  Really,"  one  of  the  men  said  coldly,  "  I  can't  see 

325 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

any  direct  connection  between  this  lawbreaker  and  the 
merits  of  the  strike  we're  trying  to  settle." 

"  Maybe  I  can  make  it  more  apparent,"  was  David's 
instant  reply.  "  My  idea  of  keeping  my  promise  to  Ginz- 
berg  obliges  me  to  print  a  statement  on  the  front  page  of 
the  morning  papers,  at  least  once  a  week,  so  long  as  he 
remains  in  prison.  Perhaps  the  continuation  of  this  policy 
might  cause  timid  Capital  to  become  actually  hysterical." 

"  Well !  well !  "  was  Mr.  Frame's  soothing  conclusion, 
"  after  all,  it's  not  highly  important.  You  don't  make  any 
demands,  do  you,  about  this  other  fellow — what's  his 
name — the  one  who  threw  the  brick?" 

"  Clutsky,"  David  answered.  "  No,  he's  past  helping, 
and  besides,  he's  no  client  of  mine." 

"  All  right,"  Frame  decided.  "  We  can  play  up  this 
business  of  Law  and  Order  with  him.  But  will  the 
State's  Attorney  and  the  Court  let  your  man  go  ?  " 

"  That's  my  part  of  the  job,"  was  David's  confident 
assurance.  "  They'll  be  glad  to  drop  the  case  if  the 
Pioneer  people  ask  it.  They'll  jump  at  a  chance  to  get  out 
of  the  mess  with  credit.  No  jury  would  ever  convict 
Ginzberg,  after  all  this  hue  and  cry." 

There  was  an  instant's  pause.  Then  Frame  declared 
crisply : 

"  That's  about  all,  then."  He  rang  a  bell  sharply  and 
when  the  attendant  responded,  he  ordered : 

"  Boy,  call  up  the  Pioneer  Clothing  Company,  and  tell 
Mr.  Clarence  Kaufman  I  want  him  here,  at  once." 

"Hadn't  we  better  go  to  my  office?"  David  sug 
gested.  "  We'll  want  stenographers." 

"  No,  get  them  here,"  Frame  commanded,  "  and  silent 
ones,  too.  'None  of  us  wants  to  be  known  in  this  affair." 
The  others  shook  their  heads  in  emphatic  acquiescence. 


THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

Kaufman  appeared  promptly,  duly  attended  by  two  of 
David's  professional  colleagues.  The  clothing  manufac 
turer,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  was  more  than  a  little  awed 
and  flattered  by  his  presence  in  this  Citadel  of  Non-Jewish 
gentility, — particularly  when,  to  prevent  the  necessity  of 
an  adjournment,  all  the  parties  to  this  treaty  sat  down  to 
a  hasty  meal  within  this  holy  of  holies  of  Social  aspiration. 
David,  illogically,  found  himself  much  more  disgusted 
than  amused  at  this  transparent  display  of  snobbishness, 
even  though  Kaufman's  mood  increased  to  an  unexpected 
degree  the  man's  pliability. 

There  was  a  mass  of  work  to  be  done,  and  most  of  it 
was  accomplished  by  David  Gordon.  Documents  were 
dictated,  corrected  and  dictated  again.  There  were 
hurried  trips  to  be  made  in  motors  to  the  headquarters 
of  the  strikers — to  the  houses  of  several  officers  of  the 
Pioneer  Company,  to  the  home  of  the  State's  Attorney  and 
with  that  officer  to  the  dwelling  of  one  of  the  Judges  of 
the  Court. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  the  settlement,  in  all 
its  details,  was  fully  consummated.  A  spirit  of  general 
forbearance  and  forgiveness  settled  upon  the  ill-assorted 
group  of  Jews  and  Gentiles  like  a  warm  and  sticky  fog. 
They  all  shook  hands  with  each  other  in  amiable  tolera 
tion.  Even  Kaufman,  after  having  finally  reconciled  him 
self  to  the  nauseating  dose  held  to  his  lips  by  these  over 
lords  of  industry,  found  the  prospect  of  peace  not  without 
its  allurement.  He  held  out  his  hand  to  David  Gordon 
who  accepted  it  with  the  same  inscrutable  smile  he  had 
worn  since  these  felicitations  began. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Gordon,"  Kaufman  told  him  in  his 
harsh,  guttural  tones,  "  you've  made  a  lot  of  trouble  for 

327 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

me  and  you've  called  me  some  hard  names,  but  I  don't 
bear  you  any  grudge.  After  all,  it  was  your  business  to 
fight  me!  I  ought  to  have  had  you  on  my  staff  of 
lawyers !  I'd  have  found  it  cheaper,  no  matter  what  your 
fees  are !  " 

And  David  continued  to  smile  enigmatically,  and  to 
accept  congratulations  from  everyone  in  the  room,  upon 
his  masterly  handling  of  the  whole  affair  from  beginning 
to  end. 

Just  as  some  one  made  a  movement  toward  the  door, 
David  Gordon  called  for  silence. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  there's  one  more  thing  to  be 
done.  Some  statement  should  be  prepared  and  given  to 
the  press.  They're  sure  to  print  a  long  story  about  this 
agreement.  We  may  as  well  give  it  to  them  the  way  we 
want  it  to  appear." 

He  began  without  delay  to  dictate  a  comprehensive  but 
interesting  account  of  the  termination  of  the  long  struggle, 
and  of  the  terms  which  each  side  had  agreed  to  accept.  As 
he  was  about  to  conclude  the  article,  he  paused  and 
declared : 

"  It's  sense  to  say  something  about  the  manner  in  which 
we  happened  to  meet  to  discuss  a  possible  settlement.  If 
you  don't,  you'll  merely  open  the  door  to  a  flood  of  news 
paper  surmise  and  gossip." 

"  Leave  me  out  of  it !  "  was  Frame's  peremptory  com 
mand,  which  was  echoed,  without  hesitation,  by  his  three 
companions. 

Kaufman's  counsel  looked  at  David  hopefully.  They 
were  as  willing  to  be  mentioned  as  the  financiers  appeared 
desirous  of  wrapping  themselves  in  mystery. 

"Of  course,  I  could  say  we  lawyers  met  informally  and 

328 


THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

arranged  -the  thing,"  was  David's  doubtful  comment,  "  but 
you  know,  perfectly  well,  nobody  would  believe  it." 

At  this  point,  Kaufman  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  I  think,"  he  volunteered,  "  it  would  be  just  what  you 
want,  and  a  very  pleasant  thing  besides,  to  give  some  credit 
for  this  agreement  to  Dr.  Graotz — our  Rabbi,  you  know. 
He's  worked  very  hard  for  peace ;  he  came  to  see  me  and 
tried  to  persuade  me  to  it,  and  he  went  to  the  strikers, 
too,  on  the  same  errand,  I've  been  told.  This  quarrel  has 
bothered  him  a  lot  and  I'm  sure  he'd  like  to  think  he  helped 
to  end  it.  He  did,  too,"  Kaufman  added,  really  becoming 
convinced  as  he  spoke.  "  His  arguments  have  had  great 
weight  with  me !  " 

"  The  very  thing !  "  everybody  agreed,  though  Kauf 
man's  attorneys  said  it  rather  disconsolately. 

David  Gordon,  before  he  began  dictating  the  para 
graph  which  put  Kaufman's  thought  into  appropriate 
words,  gave  vent  to  an  odd  little  chuckle  which  was  not 
altogether  indicative  of  mirth.  It  was  David's  audible 
expression  of  his  ability  to  see  and  appreciate  the  irony 
of  existence  in  general,  and  of  Rabbis,  clothing  merchants 
and  labor  disputes  in  particular. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
GOD'S  WORK 

PROMPTLY  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  morning  following  the 
settlement  of  the  strike,  Mr.  Israel  Ginzberg,  accompanied 
by  his  attorney,  appeared  in  the  Criminal  Court  where  he 
pleaded  guilty  to  an  indictment  for  "  inciting  to  riot,"  and 
was  paroled  into  the  custody  of  his  own  counsel  for  a  per 
iod  of  two  years.  The  more  serious  charges  against  him 
were  dismissed,  and  as  he  stood  in  the  corridor  of  the 
Court  House  accepting  the  noisy  congratulations  of  his 
friends,  he  felt  himself  to  be,  indeed,  something  of  a  pub 
lic  character. 

During  the  same  morning,  Ruth  Hartman,  in  s-pite  of 
several  pressing  engagements  with  dressmakers  and  milli 
ners,  found  no  great  difficulty,  with  the  aid  of  her  motor 
car  and  the  telephone,  in  disposing  of  all  her  accumulations 
of  Pioneer  stock.  Her  winnings  amounted  to  a  tidy  little 
'  sum,  but  she  was  not  in  the  slightest  degree  elated  by  the 
outcome  of  her  adventure.  She  had  not  succeeded  in 
what  she  had  set  out  to  accomplish.  A  lapful  of  gold 
instead,  seemed  to  her  but  poor  consolation. 

There  was  still  another  consequence,  and  a  rather  curi 
ous  one,  which  resulted  from  the  sudden  truce  in  the  labor 
war.  Philip  Graetz  awoke,  much  to  his  amazement,  to 
find  himself  once  more  restored  to  all  the  popularity  he 
had  enjoyed  during  the  first  days  of  his  ministry.  If 
anything,  his  position  was  even  more  enviable  than  in 
those  early  days,  for  most  of  his  former  triumphs  had 
been  based  upon  mere  promise,  while  now  the  community 
regarded  him  as  a  man  of  remarkable  achievement. 

830 


GOD'S  WORK 

The  Rabbi's  firdt  reaction  to  this  strange  verdict  of  the 
sapient  public  was  one  of  sheer  bewilderment.  The  late 
Lord  Byron,  when  he  awoke  to  find  himself  famous, 
accepted  the  situation  with  cheerful  alacrity,  and  his  exam 
ple  has  been  faithfully  followed  ever  since  by  each  and 
every  politician,  scribbler,  actor  or  criminal  who  succeeds 
in  imprinting  his  deathless  name  upon  a  page  of  news 
paper  ;  but  the  aristocratic  poet  had  one  enormous  advan 
tage  over  Philip.  He  was  in  thorough  agreement  with  the 
gratifying  opinion  of  his  indulgent  critics — not  only 
regarding  his  own  genius,  but  upon  the  sterling  worth  of 
the  particular  bit  of  work  which  mankind  delighted  to" 
honor.  Philip  was  more  doubtful. 

He  acknowledged  one  telephone  call  after  another 
with  the  simple  statement  that  he  had  worked  -as  faith 
fully  as  he  could  to  bring  about  a  state  of  good  feeling,  but 
had  at  no  time  been  given  any  cause  to  believe  he  had  made 
much  of  an  impression  upon  either  side.  His  acquaint 
ances,  and  the  public  generally,  calmly  brushed  these  re 
marks  aside  as  evidence  of  a  rather  becoming  modesty. 
Since  the  head  of  the  Pioneer  Company  and  the  repre 
sentative  of  the  Unions  united  in  attributing  to  the  minis 
ter  the  impulse  toward  Peace,  and  he  himself  had  been 
forced  to  admit  his  efforts  in  that  direction,  what  else  were 
they  to  infer? 

Philip  did  not  know  how  much  or  how  little  influence 
his  unsuccessful  appeals  to  Kaufman  and  to  Gordon  might 
have  had.  Perhaps  his  insistent  pleadings,  even  though 
repulsed,  had  left  each  of  the  combatants  with  a  lurking 
desire  to  yield  to  these  entreaties,  though  not  in  the  precise 
way  the  Rabbi  had  desired. 

He  might  therefore  have  been  perfectly  contented  to 

331 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

listen  gratefully  to  the  soothing  sound  of  the  universal 
applause  which  was  his — whether  justly  or  through  some 
incomprehensible  error — had  the  settlement  commended 
itself  to  him.  Its  terms,  however,  he  considered  nothing 
less  than  abhorrent.  He  would  almost  have  preferred  a 
continuance  of  the  quarrel. 

The  recognition  of  the  Union,  to  his  mind,  was  a 
mere  empty  flourish  of  phrases.  The  right  to  organize  was 
conceded,  but  the  Union  men  were  to  work  side  by  side 
with  non-Union  operators.  The  result  combined,  so  the 
Rabbi  thought,  all  the  disadvantages  of  -a  "  closed  shop," 
and  one  where  no  organization  was  tolerated.  The  Union 
would  have  some  power — just  enough  to  make  mischief — 
and  no  real  responsibility.  Between  the  two  classes  of 
workers,  there  would  be  friction  from  the  very  beginning. 

The  strikebreakers  had  been  abandoned  without  a 
qualm.  That,  in  itself,  was  enough,  in  the  opinion  of 
Philip,  to  brand  the  whole  scheme  as  a  conscienceless 
betrayal  of  all  principle. 

There  was  no  provision  for  the  peaceful  adjustment  of 
future  disputes.  Sooner  or  later,  all  this  misery  must  be 
lived  through  again.  The  wage  scale  had  been  adopted 
without  any  inquiry  as  to  whether  it  was  fair  Or  not. 
Finally,  the  disposal  of  the  case  of  Ginzberg  seemed  to 
him,  in  its  iniquity,  to  typify  the  spirit  which  animated  the 
whole  transaction.  After  all  the  man's  poses  as  an  inno 
cent  martyr,  after  all  the  fiery  invective  which  had  been 
published  in  his  name,  he  had  confessed  in  open  Court 
his  guilt  of  an  offense,  which,  if  committed,  made  him 
morally  responsible'  for  the  blotting  out  of  a  human  life. 
And  thereupon  he  had  gone  scot  free,  while  for  poor, 
friendless  Qutsky  there  was  in  store  a  long  and  rigorous 

332 


GOD'S  WORK 

punishment!  It  was  monstrous — all  of  it.  And  people 
fixed  the  responsibility  of  it  on  him!  Only  they  didn't 
blame  him  as  they  should  have  done  if  it  had  really  been 
his  work ;  they  lauded  him  to  the  skies ! 

He  remained  all  morning  in  his  rooms  trying  to  adjust 
his  thoughts  to  the  palpably  absurd  situation  in  which  he 
found  himself.  Meanwhile,  over  the  telephone,  there  con 
tinued  to  trickle  a  steady  stream  of  felicitations  from 
Gentiles,  as  well  as  Jews.  There  were  but  two  courses 
open  'to  him ;  one  was  to  be  silent,  and  let  people  believe 
what  pleased  them;  the  other  was  to  repudiate,  with  all 
the  scorn  it  deserved,  this  disgraceful  Peace. 

His  first  inclination  was  toward  a  policy  of  protest. 
That  was  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  what  he  wanted  to  do. 
He.  could  crush  into  one  intense  sermon  all  the  indignation 
he  had  concealed,  all  the  disappointment  he  had  endured 
and  all  the  soreness  of  heart  and  bitterness  of  bereavement 
he  had  felt  because  of  the  loss  to  him  of  the  woman  he  loved. 
He  could  excoriate  these  smug,  complacent  creatures  who 
were  happy  now.  because  there  would  be  no  more  disturb 
ing  clamor ;  he  could  hurl  at  them  the  thunder  of  his  elo 
quence  in  a  way  which  would  shake  them,  for  a  minute  at 
least,  out  of  their  disgusting  ecstasy  of  self-worship.  The 
rich,  with  their  brutal  selfishness,  the  poor,  with  their 
brutal  stupidity,  the  cautious,  with  their  ignoble  prudence, 
Russian  Jew  and  German  Jew, — Orthodox  and  Reformed 
— Zionist  and  non-Zionist,  he  would  tell  every  one  of  them 
how  base  and  cowardly  had  been  their  conduct  in  this 
crisis,  and  how  little  of  worth  and  decency  there  was  in 
them.  The  Gentiles,  too,  who  had  stood  aside  and  sneered 
at  this  enactment  by  the  despised  Jews,  of  the  drama  so 
often  played  by  the  holiest  of  their  church  wardens !  He 

333 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

would  not  omit  to  hold  up  to  them  a  mirror  in  which  they 
might  view  and  appreciate  their  grotesque  deformities. 

He  sat  down  to  draft  such  a  sermon,  and  page  after 
page  of  it  accumulated  on  his  desk — despite  the  interrup 
tions  of  the  telephone.  He  would  turn  from  this  vitriolic 
manuscript,  born  of  his  aching  sorrow  and  his  burning 
indignation,  to  answer  civilly  the  well-meant  greetings  of 
the  very  people  of  whom  he  wrote.  He  had  no  idea,  him 
self,  whether  the  man  at  the  telephone  or  the  one  at  the 
desk  was  the  real  Philip. 

While  he  was  at  luncheon  in  the  grill  of  his  apartment 
hotel,  he  was  interrupted,  again  and  again,  by  men  who 
slapped  him  on  the  back,  and  women  who  daintily  pressed 
his  fingen  tips  as  they  assured  him  of  his  own  remarkable 
qualities,  and  refused  to  consider  seriously  his  constantly 
repeated  refrain  of  how  small  a  part  he  had  really  played 
in  the  achievement  they  praised. 

The  noon  newspapers  were  delivered  to  him  while  he 
was  still  at  luncheon  and  he  found  in  two  of  them  editorial 
commendation  of  his  activities.  Both  journals  congratu 
lated  the  City  upon  the  possession  of  a  spiritual  leader 
whose  deeds  as  well  as  his  words  were  examples  in  prac 
tical  .religion. 

Much  more  disturbing  to  the  young  Rabbi  of  Beth  El 
were  the  "  human  interest  stories  "  which  decorated  the 
newspapers.  They  told  of  the  unrestrained  happiness 
among  the  strikers  and  their  wives  and  children,  at  the 
passing  of  their  days  of  famine.  Philip  assumed,  with  a 
credulity  which  would  have  rejoiced  the  hearts  of  the  space 
writers  who  penned  them,  the  literal  truth  of  these  master 
pieces  of  restrained  pathos.  They  were,  in  fact,  exceed 
ingly  well  done,  and  with  so  exact  a  correspondence  to 

334 


GOD'S  WORK 

actual  conditions  that  the  incidents  recounted  might  really 
have  happened  had  the  characters  described  been  gifted 
with  a  proper  sense  of  dramatic  values.  These  newspaper 
sketches,  however,  smote  Philip  with  renewed  doubts.  He 
had  been  willing,  almost  axious,  to  cast  away  his  newly- 
regained  laurels.  But  this  Peace — no  matter  how  degrad 
ing — would  bring  bread  to  the  hungry,  safety  to  the  endan 
gered  and  good-will  to  those  whose  souls  were  full  of  hate. 
Ought  he  to  banish  it,  even  if  he  could?  He  returned 
to  his  study  but  added  no  more  to  the  epoch-making  ser 
mon.  Instead,  he  tried  to  decide  what  he  really  ought  to 
do.  The  settlement  of  the  strike  was  now  an  accomplished 
fact.  People  believed  he  had  been  instrumental  in  bring 
ing  it  to  pass.  His  own  influence  for  wiser  and  fairer 
settlements,  in  the  future,  might  be  strengthened  if  he 
were  willing  to  endure  the  responsibility  for  this  one.  He 
sprang  from  his  chair  in  angry  impatience.  Always,  it 
appeared,  one's  opportunities  for  usefulness  hereafter, 
must  be  paid  for  by  doing  something  vile  today ;  standing 
unyieldingly  for  Truth,  here  and  now,  meant  never  having 
the  chance  again!  That  was  the  lesson  he  had  learned 
from  this  strike  and  his  efforts  to  bring  it  to  an  honor 
able  end. 

Was  it  all  worth  the  trouble?  he  asked  himself.  He 
had  sacrificed  his  work,  his  effort  and  Ellen  to  do  what 
he  believed  to  be  right  and  necessary.  All  these  things  had 
counted  for  nothing,  and  people  had  looked  at  him  askance. 
Then  while  he  lay  exhausted  and  helpless,  others  had  done 
a  wrong  and  useless  thing,  and  every  voice  was  lifted  to 
him,  Philip  Graetz,  in  a  mad  chorus  of  love  and  gratitude. 
The  minister  smiled  unpleasantly.  Uptown  and  down 
town,  human  animals  were  siliy  fools — and  that  was  the 

335 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

truth.  Was  it  worth  spending  one's  life  to  toss  words  to 
such  creatures,  who  could  not  comprehend,  and — still 
worse — had  no  wish  to  comprehend.  They  would  be  just 
as  happy  or  miserable  if  left  to  themselves ;  while  he,  at 
least,  would  be  free, — free  to  do  what  he  would,  and  go 
where  he  pleased — to  look  at  life  instead  of  ceaselessly  try 
ing  to  mold  it ;  to  seek  for  and  find  Ellen,  he  whispered  to 
himself,  half  guiltily. 

Then  he  shook  off  defiantly  this  feeling  of  guilt,  and 
looked  without  shrinking  into  his  own  mind.  He  had 
accepted  her  loss  in  good  faith ;  he  had  reconciled  himself 
to  his  duty  so  long  as  he  had  found  in  it  the  hope  of  accom 
plishment  ;  even  af  terhis  failure  to  deal  with  David  Gordon, 
he  had  gone  steadfastly  on  with  his  work,  clothed  in  the 
dignity  of  an  earnest,  though  unsuccessful,  effort.  But 
today  he  was  possessed  by  an  overwhelming  skepticism. 
Why  try  to  change  these  besotted  beasts  ?  This  was  the 
mode  of  life  they  enjoyed!  An  event  occurred,  dripping 
with  cynical  wickedness;  they  hailed  its  advent  as  the 
happiest  of  tidings. 

He  was  not  merely  useless  here ;  he  was  actually  in  the 
way — ^making  men  uncomfortable  with  ideals  they  did  not 
want.  Meanwhile,  somewhere  in  the  world  there  was 
Ellen,  missing  his  presence  with  the  same  poignancy  as  he 
did  hers,  recalling  each  trick  of  his  speech  and  gesture, 
each  of  his  thoughts  and  hopes,  each  of  his  caresses,  too. 
Where  she  might  be,  he  could  not  know,  but  he  never 
doubted  he  could  find  her.  The  longing  of  each  for  the 
other,  if  he  could  only  burst  asunder  his  prison  bars, 
would  surely  guide  them  to  their  lovers'  meeting  at  the 
journey's  end. 

The  whole  afternoon  drifted  by  in  such  unprofitable 

336 


GOD'S  WORK 

musing;  the  members  of  his  congregation  were  priding 
themselves  on  the  lucky  chance  which  had  called  him  to 
minister  to  them;  other  Temples  in  Baltimore  and  else 
where  were  thinking  of  Beth  El  with  envy.  Even  the  East 
Side  regarded  him  with  kindliness.  Had  he  chosen  to 
step  from  the  door  of  his  hotel  and  walk  the  length  of 
Eutaw  Place,  his  progress  would  have  partaken  of  the 
nature  of  a  small  ovation.  Yet  the  hero  of  the  day  chose 
to  remain  locked  in  his  own  study,  lost  in  misanthropic 
reflections  about  the  emptiness  of  what  men  call  failure  or 
success, — reflections  only  relieved,  now  and  then,  by  some 
fleeting  memory  of  Ellen's  sudden,  unexpected  smile  in 
the  midst  of  tender  seriousness,  or  her  equally  unexpected 
sweet  gravity  in  an  interval  of  laughter. 

As  twilight  settled  down  upon  the  City,  a  visitor  was 
announced.  It  was  a  newspaper  man.  The  notion  had 
occurred  to  a  resourceful  editor  to  print  the  opinions  upon 
all  disputed  questions  of  Sociology  of  this  young  minister 
now  occupying  the  center  of  the  stage.  To  obtain  this 
interview,  he  had  diplomatically  selected  one  of  the  few 
Jews  on  his  staff — a  member  of  Philip's  own  congregation, 
— whose  name  was  Joseph  Adler.  Adler  was  generally 
accorded  in  the  Jewish  community  a  position  somewhat 
higher  than  his  importance  to  his  paper,  and  the  size  of 
his  salary,  would  have  earned  for  him.  He  was  the  son 
of  affluent  parents,  had  received  an  expensive  education, 
and  was  supposed  to  be  doing  journalistic  work  as  a  pre 
lude  to  something  exceedingly  important — and  vague — 
particularly  vague  to  the  young  gentleman  himself.  He 
welcomed  heartily  this  evening's  assignment,  since  he  was 
a  bora  gossip  and  yearned  to  be  able  to  recount  next  day, 
and  for  several  days  thereafter,  some  little  reminiscence 
22  837 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  his  reception  by  the  popular  preacher,  thereby  identify 
ing  himself  as  one  of  Philip's  closest  intimates. 

This  evening,  however,  he  seemed  doomed  to  disap 
pointment.  Philip  received  him  with  his  habitual  courtesy, 
but  flatly  declined  to  talk  for  publication.  He  apologized 
graciously  for  his  refusal,  but  left  no  doubts  of  its  finality. 
Adler  employed,  in  turn,  all  his  arts  of  flattery  and  en 
treaty,  but  with  no  effect.  Philip  explained  his  lack  of 
opportunity  to  give  careful  thought  to  the  subjects  upon 
which  his  views  were  requested,  and  his  unwillingness  to 
become  responsible  for  any  ill-considered  statements. 

None  the  less,  he  said,  he  was  glad  to  see  Mr.  Adler, 
and  would  always  enjoy  having  him  stop  in  his  rooms 
whenever  he  was  in  the  mood. 

Nearly  all  of  Philip's  lies  were  of  this  merciful  variety. 
This  one  brought  its  own  punishment  in  the  shape  of 
Adler's  deferred  departure.  He  deluged  the  Rabbi  with 
odds  and  ends  of  newspaper  gossip  upon  a  host  of  unre 
lated  subjects,  and  was  not  a  whit  discouraged  at  his 
host's  lack  of  curiosity  or  enthusiasm. 

At  last,  he  rose  to  go,  saying  he  was  about  to  seek 
an  interview  with  David  Gordon. 

"  He's  always  good  to  the  newspaper  boys,"  Adler 
said,  rather  significantly. 

Philip  thought  the  lawyer  had  good  reasons  for  this 
cordiality,  but  his  response  was  non-committal  and  polite. 

"  It's  been  a  great  thing  for  him,  this  strike,"  Adler 
volunteered,  "  not  only  in  reputation — but  they  say  his  fee 
runs  way  into  five  figures." 

Philip  expressed  a  surprise  not  wholly  perfunctory. 

"  Indeed,  yes !  "  the  newspaper  man  rambled  on,  in  no 
apparent  hurry  to  be  off.  "  You  know,"  he  said,  lowering 

338 


GOD'S  WORET 

his  voice  to  a  confidential  key,  "  I  had  a  wonderful  story 
about  Gordon's  fee  and  who  was  paying  it — but  the  Chief 
wouldn't  use  it,  'cause  it  couldn't  be  verified." 

This  time  Philip's  thirst  for  information  had  lost  its 
languid  quality,  and  he  asked  boldly  for  more  details. 

"  You  mustn't  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  a  soul,  Doctor," 
Adler  cautioned.  "  I  wouldn't  tell  it  to  anyone  else 
around  here,  though  it's  common  gossip  now  in  all  the 
newspaper  offices.  We're  all  sure  it  was  Max  Hirsch  who 
brought  Gordon  into  the  case  and  put  up  a  lot  of  the 
strikers'  fund  besides." 

Philip's  world  reeled  under  him.  Hirsch  was  the 
guiding  spirit  of  the  Alpha  Clothing  Company,  one  of  the 
Pioneer's  most  vigorous  competitors.  It  also  happened 
that  Hirsch,  like  Kaufman,  drew  his  religious  inspiration, 
from  Beth  El. 

"  Why  on  earth,"  Philip  demanded,  excitedly,  "  should 
Hirsch  want  to  do  such  an  unheard-of  thing?  " 

"  It's  not  so  unheard-of,"  Adler  replied  coolly.  "  The 
Pioneer  has  been  fighting  the  Alpha  for  years,  using  every 
dirty  trick  it  could  think  of  to  edge  them  out  of  good 
business.  This  season,  I  reckon  the  Pioneer's  sales 
dropped  off.  Besides,  Kaufman's  was  the  only  plant  in 
town  that  was  free  from  the  Unions.  Now  they're  all  in 
the  same  boat.  Maybe  some  of  the  other  houses  chipped 
in  a  dollar  or  two,  besides." 

The  Rabbi  listened  with  ill-concealed  horror  to  Adler's 
glib  chatter. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  he  exclaimed  at  last,  in  low, 
excited  tones. 

"  Well,  I  don't  say  it's  true,"  the  newspaper  man  made 
haste  to  say,  "  we  couldn't  verify  it.  Gordon's  too  keen 

339 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

to  let  anyone  prove  anything  he  doesn't  want  known.  But 
it's  the  gossip  of  the  office.  And  Hirsch  has  gone  to 
Gordon's  house,  at  nights,  pretty  often  the  last  few 
months.  Dave's  been  his  lawyer  for  years.  Still,"  he 
concluded,  with  amiable  philosophy,  "  what's  the  differ 
ence?  It's  all  over  now,  and  Gordon  did  a  good  job.  no 
matter  who  paid  him !  " 

Philip  could  not  trust  himself  to  answer  this  heresy, 
and  Adler  finally  succeeded  in  making  his  exit,  saying  as 
he  left : 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Doctor.  I  came  to  interview  you, 
but  you  seem  to  have  turned  the  tables  on  me." 

Philip  left  to  himself,  faced  this  new  possibility  with 
positive  loathing.  It  was  idle,  vicious  rumor,  of  course, 
engendered  in  the  minds  of  office  underlings  with  a  per 
verted  taste  for  slander.  He  had  compromised  his  dig 
nity  in  encouraging  this  murderer  of  reputations  to  repeat 
such  poisortous  stuff  to  him.  Persistently,  nevertheless, 
the  thought  recurred  to  him: 

"  Suppose  it's  true !  Is  it  so  improbable,  after  all  ? 
Why  has  Gordon  been  so  secretive  about  the  identity  of  his 
employer?  Suppose  it's  true!  " 

If  it  were  really  true,  Philipi  concluded  there  was 
nothing  in  mankind  or  womankind  one  might  trust! 
Everything  they  did  ar  thought  was  vile  and  base !  Those 
confiding  wretches — like  himself — who  had  no  share  in 
the  carnival  of  .treachery  and  corruption  were  the  sense 
less  dupes  of  the  others.  All  the  strike,  with  its  life-like 
stage-setting  of  pathos  and  heroism,  had  been  nothing  but 
an  idle  mummery,  enacted  by  fools,  to  serve  the  money- 
looting  ambitions  of  knaves. 

He  had  been  the  most  credulous  of  all  the  innocents — 
340 


GOD'S  WORK 

not  only  because  he  had,  with  never  a  suspicion,  allowed 
himself  to  be  used  as  one  of  the  puppets, — others  had  done 
that.  The  deluded  strikers  had  gone  hungry,  as  incidents 
in  the  strategy  of  this  private  war  between  Hirsch  and 
Kaufman.  But  the  Rabbi  had  suffered  all  the  strikers 
had  suffered,  and  more.  Like  them,  he  had  made  his 
sacrifice  of  personal  happiness,  but  he  had,  in  addition, 
staked  the  whole  of  his  enthusiasm,  every  vestige  of  his 
faith  in  himself  and  his  work,  in  playing  a  man's  part  in 
this  struggle.  Now,  when  he  had  emerged  from  the 
thick  of  the  noise  and  the  din,  battered  and  wounded,  and 
with  no  consolation,  save  the  knowlege  that  he  had  re 
mained  true  to  his  own  standards,  he  was  to  be  told  that 
the  whole  affair  had  been  nothing  but  a  gigantic  entertain 
ment,  arranged,  like  a  battle  of  unwilling  gladiators,  for 
the  august  pleasure  of  a  wealthy  patron  of  such  spectacles. 

It  was  monstrous !  And  Philip,  rapidly  working  him 
self  into  a  frenzy,  almost  hysterical,  decided  flatly,  if  this 
story  were  true,  he  was  done  with  his  ministry,  and  with 
these  people  who  could  seem  so  kind  and  warm-hearted 
and  yet  engage  in  deeds  so  far  beyond  the  pale  of  for 
giveness. 

He  would  preach  the  sermon  which  lay  uncompleted 
on  his  desk.  He  would  end  it  by  putting  his  suspicion  into 
words.  The  flaming  indictment  should  end  with  his  resig 
nation.  He  would  tell  them  how  they  had  robbed  him, 
in  these  brief  months,  oi  his  belief  in  himself  and  all  other 
men,  as  well  as  in  the  God  who  could  be  guilty  of  their 
creation.  Then  he  would-  go — whether  he  found  Ellen  or 
not, — he  would  remain  here  no  longer,  breathing  the  same 
polluted  air  with  Hirsch  and  Kaufman  and  David  Gordon. 

It  was  David's  conduct  which  rankled  most.  In  spite 
341 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

of  the  man's  affectation  of  cynicism,  the  Rabbi  had 
believed  in. his  breadth  of  vision,  his  underlying- sincerity, 
his  unselfish  willingness  to  fight  a  good  fight  for  the  weaker 
cause.  He  was  the  more  deceived !  It  was  Gordon  who 
had  done  him  the  worst  wrong  of  all !  He  was  the  arch- 
traitor,  the  master  conspirator! — always  supposing,  of 
course,  this  tale  to  be  true ! 

Even  in  his  rapidly-increasing  excitement,  Philip 
remembered  the  injustice  of  forming  his  judgment  with 
out  knowing  whether  or  not  the  story  was  a  mere  scur 
rilous  falsehood. 

Of  course,  he  could  find  out  sooner  or  later.  He  would 
allow  himself  no  rest  until  he  had ;  but  he  could  not  bear 
the  suspense  another  hour.  One  way  or  the  other,  he 
must  learn  the  actual  truth  and  decide  whether  he  was  to 
live  his  life  in  a  world  of  lies  and  cruelties,  or  among  men 
who  had  some  standards  of  honor,  however  crude. 

He  would  talk  to  Gordon.  He  would  tear  the  man's 
secret  from  his  heart.  An  he!  would  do  this  now — this 
very  night.  He  hurried  from  his  hotel  to  Gordon's  home 
and  demanded,  in  tones  of  insistent  eagerness,  an  imme 
diate  audience  with  the  lawyer.  The  servant  eyed  this 
importunate  visitor  with  frank  astonishment;  but  Philip 
was  in  no  mood  for  delay.  He  had  a  right  to  be  here. 
Gordon  owed  him  a  debt  of  explanation  upon  which  the 
whole  of  the  minister's  future  happiness  depended.  He 
had  come,  in  no  temper  of  mild  indulgence,  to  claim  its 
payment. 

The  servant  who  had  left  the  Rabbi  standing  in  the 
hallway,  returned  saying  his  master  was  now  engaged  in 
consultation  with  an  important  client.  If  Dr.  Graetz  would 
return  at  nine  o'clock  he  would  be  glad  to  receive  him. 

342 


GOD'S  WORK 

Philip,  most  reluctantly,  suffered  himself  to  be  turned 
away.  He  must  submit  to  a  further  delay  of  more  than  an 
hour !  Morever,  why  had  not  Gordon  suggested  his  await 
ing  his  leisure  in  his  home,  instead  of  thrusting  him  inhos 
pitably  into  the  street?  It  was  suspicious,  certainly! 
Someone  was  with  him  whom  he  didn't  want  the  Rabbi  to 
meet,  someone  who  wouldn't  come  to  the  lawyer's  office 
for  fear  of  observation.  Hirsch,  of  course.  Hadn't  Adler 
said  Kaufman's  rival  had  been  coming  there  at  nights? 
The  thing  was  palpably  clear.  Philip  walked  up  and  down 
Madison  Avenue  at  a  rapid,  irregular  gait,  lashing  himself 
into  an  ever  rising  flood  of  nervousness  and  frenzy. 

As  he  walked,  a  most  uncharacteristic  impulse  seized 
him  in  its  grasp.  He  would  play  the  spy.  He  would 
secrete  himself  in  the  shadow  of  the  house  adjoining 
Gordon's  and  discover  what  manner  of  visitor  the  lawyer 
chose  to  entertain.  The  angle  of  the  wall  made  a  patch  of 
inky  blackness.  No  one  would  ever  know  of  his  presence 
there,  and  as  this  mysterious  client  walked  from  the 
entrance  of  the  apartment  house  in  the  side  yard,  to  the 
pavement  of  Madison  Avenue,  he  would  pass  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  minister.  If  it  were  Hirsch,  he  could  not 
fail  to  recognize  him.  Philip,  even  in  this  abnormal  key  of 
excitement,  did  not  persuade  himself  to  such  a  step  with 
out  some  qualms ;  but  he  silenced  them  effectively.  Who 
else  had  scruples  in  this  world  of  detestable  intrigue? 
Besides,  he  was  only  seeking  to  learn  what  it  was  his  right 
to  know.  He  stifled  his  misgivings  and  remained  hidden 
at  his  point  of  vantage. 

After  many  minutes,  the  door  suddenly  opened,  but 
the  lights  in  the  hallway  and  vestibule  had  at  the  same 
instant  been  extinguished.  Philip,  in  that  brief  instant  of 

343 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

attempting  to  adjust  his  vision  to  the  increased  darkness, 
could  see  nothing  more  than  the  uncertain  outline  of  a 
bulky,  male  figure  descending  the  steps.  The  man,  how 
ever,  must  pass  him  on  his  way  to  the  street,  and  the  Rabbi 
crouched  breathlessly  against  the  dark  wall.  To  his  sur 
prise  and  consternation,  the  visitor,  instead  of  turning  to 
the  front  of  the  building,  made  his  way  rapidly  in  the  oppo 
site  direction,  and  vanished  through  a  little  lattice  gate 
which  led  into  a  court-yard  abutting  upon  the  lane  in  the 
rear  of  the  house ! 

The  lattice  gate  clicked  behind  him,  indicating  the 
probable  presence  of  a  spring  lock.  To  pursue  the  man 
was,  therefore,  impossible,  without  regard  to  the  madness 
of  such  an  indiscretion.  To  intercept  him  in  the  lane, 
or  "alley,"  as  Baltimore  parlance  terms  it,  involved  a 
flight  along  half  the  exterior  of  the  block,  without  any 
certainty  as  to  whether  the  man  had  found  his  outlet 
toward  the  North  or  the  South.  This,  in  spite  of  its  wild 
indecorum,  Philip  attempted,  but  when  he  reached  the 
dark  outlet  of  the  alley  into  the  side  street,  there  was 
nothing  to  be  seen.  The  man  may  have  turned  in  the 
opposite  direction,  or  Philip's  pace,  though  it  left  him 
breathless  and  exhausted,  may  have  been  too  slow.  His 
essay  in  espionage  had  brought  him  nothing  but  a  flutter 
ing  pulse  and  a  burning  sense  of  humiliation. 

Still,  he  reflected,  as  he  made  his  way  back  to  Gordon's 
house,  there  could  be  no  reasonable  doubt  as  to  the  law 
yer's  guilt.  Why  else  should  his  client  slink  from  his 
door  like  a  house-breaker  seeking  refuge  from  the  light? 
The  man  had  been  Hirsch !  The  precious  pair  had  sus 
pected  him  of  such  dishonorable  eavesdropping  as  they 
would  have  adopted  as  a  matter  of  course.  (Somehow 

844 


GOD'S  WORK 

the  fact  that  he  had  not  disappointed  such  an  expectation, 
did  not  occur  to  Philip. )  They  had  schemed  to  elude  him. 
Now  that  he  reviewed  his  impressions,  he  found  it  less 
difficult  to  persuade  himself  of  some  resemblance  to  the 
clothing  manufacturer,  in  the  height  or  gait  of  the  dark 
bulk  of  the  man  upon  whom  he  had  spied. 

The  Rabbi  burst  into  Gordon's  study  like  an  avenging 
spirit.  He  did  not  accept  the  hand  held  out  to  him  in 
welcome,  nor  seat  himself  in  a  deep  chair  toward  which 
the  lawyer  pointed.  He  was  ashen  pale,  and  there  was 
an  unearthly  glint  in  his  eyes. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  David.  "You  look  as 
though  you'd  seen  a  ghost." 

"  I've  seen  worse  things,"  began  Philip  in  shrill  excite 
ment.  "  I've  come  to  ask  you  about  them — and  about 
yourself.  I  know  now  who  paid  you  to  tear  this  town 
into  shreds  and  to  make  blind  fools  like  Ginzberg  and 
myself  wish  they  were  ghosts!  I  came  to  ask  you  to 
teach  me  how  people  can  go  on  living  when  they  do  such 
things,  and  when  they  believe  everyone  else  would  do 
them,  too,  if  they  only  knew  the  trick !  " 

The  lawyer  stared  at  his  distraught  visitor  without 
answering.  He  seemed  to  be  trying  to  make  sure  whether 
he  was  altogether  mad. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  commanded  at  last,  in  tones  of  uncom 
promising  sternness. 

"  Answer  me ! "  was  Philip's  hysterical  demand. 
"  You  could  use  all  of  us  as  pawns  in  the  game  your  boss 
hired  you  to  play.  Some  of  us  gave  up  bread,  and  one 
laid  down  his  life  and  I  threw  away  something  better 
than  either.  And  you  made  us  all  prance  around  as  you 
pulled  the  strings.  We  covered  up  our  sore  hearts  with 

845 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

what  we  thought  were  wonderfully  heroic  words  and 
deeds,  while  you  and  he  sat  behind  a  closed  door  chuckling 
as  you  figured  up  how  many  dollars  you  could  make  by  it 
all  1  I  want  to  know  how  it  feels  to  be  like  that,  so  I  can 
try  it,  too." 

Gordon  sat  down  and  looked  at  the  Rabbi  with  the 
expression  of  a  man  who  has  been  saddled  with  the 
responsibility  of  a  sick  child. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  'urged  patiently,  "  what  has  upset  you 
in  this  way  ?  " 

v  "  Don't  pose  with  me  any  longer,"  the  Rabbi  ex 
claimed  in  the  same  shrill,  unnatural  voice.  "  I  know  all 
about  you  and  Hirsch,  and  I  for  one  won't  stand  it.  I'm 
going  to  shriek  it  from  the  house-tops,  and  after  that,  I'm 
done  with  you  and  him  and  all  your  kind.  If  there's 
nobody  in  the  world  but  fools  and  rascals,  I  shan't  be  one 
of  the  fools  any  longer." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  help  being,"  David 
retorted,  dropping,  at  last,  his  attitude  of  concern. 
"  You're  talking  gibberish.  If  you  know  anything  you 
care  to  shriek,  you've  chosen  the  wrong  audience.  I 
have  no  taste  for  melodrama." 

"  I  do  know  something,"  Philip  insisted.  "  I  know  it 
was  Hirsch  who  paid  your  fee.  I  know  he  was  'here  this 
very  night."  ~~ 

David  indulged  in  his  cryptic  smile. 

"You're  on  the  verge,  my  dear  Graetz,"  he  warned, 
"  of  making  yourself  extremely  ridiculous.  When  it  comes 
to  a  matter  of  actual  facts,  you  know  nothing.  I  doubt 
if  you'd  care  to  shriek  from  the  house-tops  the  methods 
you  use  of  reaching  your  hare-brained  guesses." 

"  Oh,  you're  clever  enough,"  Philip  sneered ;  "  you 

346 


GOD'S  WORK 

arrange  things  so  you  don't  get  caught  red-handed ! " 

"  Really,  Doctor,"  David  said  coldly,  apparently  at  the 
end  of  his  forbearance,  "  until  tonight,  I  prided  myself 
upon  the  superlative  quality  of  my  bad  manners.  You  can 
hardly  expect  me  to  assist  you  in,  robbing  me  of  these 
laurels.  For  tonight,  at  least,  I'm  afraid  we  haven't  any 
thing  further  to  say  to  one  another." 

The  lawyer  rose  significantly.  Philip  felt  himself 
about  to  be  dismissed  without  a  word  of  absolute  certainty 
to  silence  or  confirm  his  torturing  suspicions — to  tell  him 
whether  or  not  he  should  tear  up  the  roots  of  his  life  and 
his  ministry.  His  unstable  emotions  swept  him  suddenly 
from  his  passion  of  burning  indignation  to  a  burst  of 
pathetic  despair. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Gordon,"  he  begged,  "  tell  me  the 
truth !  Don't  you  see  I  can't  go  on  in  this  way  ?  Tell  me 
if  the  whole  thing  has  been  a  hideous  joke,  and  if  it  has, 
let  me  get  away  from  these  lepers,  while  I'm  still  sane. 
I  couldn't  stand  it  here  any  longer ;  I  couldn't !  " 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  the  thing  has  been  any 
thing  but  a  joke,"  was  David's  grave  assurance.  "  What 
else  do  you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  who  paid  you,"  Philip  asked  breath 
lessly.  "If  you'll  tell  me,  I'll  never  repeat  it  so  long  as 
I  live.  I  don't  want  to  punish  anybody  any  longer.  It's 
for  myself  I'm  asking.  I  tell  you  I  must  know !  " 

David  met  his  eagerness  with  a  stern  but  not  unsym 
pathetic  kindness. 

"There  are  some  things  a  lawyer  may  not  do — not 
even  to  save  a  friend  (or  himself,  either),  from  suicide  or 
worse.  One  of  these  things  is  the  betrayal  of  his  client's 
secrets." 

847 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

"  It'sf  a  strange  sense  of  honor  you  lawyers  have," 
Philip  answered,  flaming  up  again,  in  his  disappointment. 
"  There's  nothing  too  bad  for  you  to  do  if  it  helps  the  man 
who  can  pay  you ;  you  know  nothing  of  fair  dealing,  or 
courage  or  fidelity  except  what  a  slave  shows  for  his 
master ! " 

If  he  expected  to  reawaken  David's  indignation  he 
found  himself  altogether  unsuccessful. 

"  There's  a  kernel  of  truth  in  that,"  David  conceded 
thoughtfully.  "Yet  even  to  you  chivalrous  noblemen 
the  mercenary  soldier  has  his  uses.  There's  a  monument 
at  Lucerne,  I  believe,  to  a  group  of  them  who  died  at 
Paris,  to  save  the  life  of  a  stupid  French  King.  The  oddest 
part  of  it  is  that  the  sculptor  was  the  same  one  who  did  the 
figure  of  Christ  you  saw  at  the  Hopkins  Hospital !  " 

Philip  considered  for  a  moment  the  force  of  David's 
thought.  Clearly  no  matter  what  else  might  be  said  of 
him,  this  lawyer  was  no  vulgar,  heedless  wage-earner ;  but 
did  not  the  strength  of  his  mind  and  the  vigor  of  his  per 
ceptions  make  it  all  the  worse  for  him  to  lend  himself  to 
Hirsch's  evil  purposes  ? 

The  Rabbi  therefore  returned  to  the  attack — though 
less  violently  than  before. 

"  Then  you  aren't  going  to  tell  me  ?  "  was  his  challenge. 

"  No,"  David  responded.  "  You  see  how  impossible  it 
is  and  how  useless.  Suppose  I  were  to  say  to  you — which 
I'm  not  doing,  remember — it  was  not  Hirsch.  Immedi 
ately,  you'd  begin  to  grope  about  for  some  other  name. 
If  I  were  to  tell  you  the  right  one,  you  would  at  once  begin 
to  analyze  his  motives  which  might  fail  to  commend  them 
selves  to  your  nice  sense  of  delicacy.  I  can't  do  it,  but  I'll 
do  something  better  for  you,  if  you  care  to  have  me." 

348 


GOD'S  WORK 

"  What  else  can  you  do  for  me? "  Philip  inquired  in 
sullen  dejection. 

"  I  can  show  you,"  David  answered  promptly,  "  of 
how  little  importance  it  is  who  paid  this  money,  or  why 
he  did  it.  It  has  not  the  weight  of  a  feather  in  the  bal 
ance  of  my  life,  and  it  shouldn't  have  in  yours." 

Philip's  expression  was  one  of  open-mouthed 
incredulity. 

"  Not  matter !  "  he  stammered.  "  Not  matter,  whether 
the  whole  fight  was  done  to  sell  a  few  more  suits  of  clothes 
or  really  to  help  men  and  women !  Not  matter  whether  it 
was  an  act  of  devotion  or  of  treachery !  Why,  you're  talk 
ing  drivelling  idiocy !  " 

"  Let's  talk  sense,"  David  began,  "  not  mere  high- 
sounding  phrases.  And  let  me  ask  you  a  question  or  two. 
You  haven't  much  respect  for  Kaufman's  money.  You 
have  suspicions,  now,  of  Hirsch's.  There  really  are  a  few 
more  in  your  congregation  I  might  speak  of.  Did  you 
think  worse  of  yourself  or  your  work  for  taking  the  salary 
they  paid  you  ?  " 

"  That's  different,"  protested  the  Rabbi,  "  even  if  I  can 
bring  myself  to  keep  on  taking1  their  money.  No  matter 
who  paid  me  I  was  trying  to  do  God's  work !  You  were 
doing  Hirsch's — or  somebody's  like  him." 

"  God's  work,"  Gordon  repeated,  smiling  gently. 
"Weir,  let's  assume,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  you're  right. 
Is  your  idea  of  God  so  narrow  as  to  believe  His  work  only 
gets  done  in  a  ministerial  way?  There's  so  much  more 
work  done  in  offices  and  factories  than  in  churches  and 
synagogues,  I  should  think,  as  a  partisan  of  Religion, 
you'd  want  to  claim  some  of  it.  Now  listen,  I'm  not 
trying  to  quibble.  I  can  see  you're  in  a  bad  way,  and 

349 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

I'm  just  fool  enough  not  to  be  willing  to  let  you  make 
your  own  kind  of  a  mess  of  things.  What  you  call  God's 
work,  I  was  doing,  too,  without  any  mawkish  ideas  about 
ways  and  means.  It  doesn't  take  a  saint  to  do  it.  On  the 
contrary,  it  usually  gets  done  by  sinners.  And  it  always 
gets  paid  for  by  sinners ;  you  admit  it  even  in  your  own 
case.  Does  it  matter  ?  On  the  contrary,  to  use  your  own 
mode  of  thinking,  if  God  can  have  His  purposes  worked 
out  for  Him,  and  use  the  money  and  the  efforts  of  the 
devil  to  gain  His  ends,  it's  a  genuine  tribute  to  His  supe 
rior  wisdom." 

The  minister  gasped,  and  swallowed  several  times  be 
fore  he  collected  his  thoughts  sufficiently  to  answer. 

Finally  he  said :  "  I  think  I  see  what  you  mean.  I'm 
sure  you  don't  mean  to  be  irreverent." 

"  I  certainly  don't,"  the  lawyer  interrupted.  "  I'm 
really  trying  to  be  just  the  opposite,  and  to  help  you,  be 
sides,  to  get  your  balance." 

"Thanks,"  was  Philip's  brief  but  not  disdainful  ac 
knowledgment.  "  You  mean,  I  take  it,  your  work  was 
useful,  and  had  a  purpose,  no  matter  how  you  happened 
to  get  the  chance  to  do  it,  and  no  matter  whether  the  man 
who  gave  you  the  chance  understood  its  real  purpose,  or 
cared." 

"  That's  about  it,"  David  agreed.  "  If  you're  going  to 
deal  with  men,  you've  got  to  begin  realizing  how  little 
they  guess  what  their  acts  mean.  They  do  what  you  call 
'  God's  work  ' — and  what  I  call  something  else — without 
knowing  it,  sometimes  even  while  believing  they're  thwart 
ing  it !  It's  the  man  who  can  see  what  is  needed,  and  use 
what  comes  to  his  hand  without  a  prim,  lady-like  fastidi 
ousness  who  does  the  most  building." 

350 


GOD'S  WORK 

"  But  even  if  you're  right  about  your  means,"  the  min 
ister  objected,  "  can  you  build,  according  to  your  design, 
with  such  men  for  partners  ?  This  strike, — for  example, — 
you  had  to  settle  it  in  a  way  which  you  know  was  bad." 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  know  that,"  David  quickly  interposed. 
"  It  wasn't  ideal.  It  was  better.  It  was  the  best  settlement 
we  could  get  under  the  circumstances.  You  can't  do  the 
work  of  fifty  years  in  a  few  months.  If  you  did,  it  would 
topple  over  in  the  first  breeze.  But  we  did  better.  We 
laid  a  foundation.  As  you  say,  it  cost  hunger  and  tears, 
and  a  bit  of  blood,  besides.  Just  the  same,  the  foundation 
is  there ! " 

"  You'll  have  the  whole  thing  over  again  in  two  years," 
was  the  Rabbi's  disgusted  prophecy. 

"I  hope  so,"  David  replied  cheerfully.  ."Without 
strife  there's  no  progress !  " 

Philip,  without  warning,  sprang  from  his  seat  and 
began  to  walk  about  the  room. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right !  "  he  said.  "  Perhaps  you're 
right  about  it  all,  but  to  me,  everything's  in  a  jumble. 
I  know  what  I  think  ought  to  be  done,  and  I  know  what  I 
think  is  bad  and  evil.  I  don't  understand  how  to  mix  these 
things  up,  and  use  the  things  I  hate  in  doing  the  things 
I  want." 

"  If  you  believe  in  God,"  David  insisted,  "  you  must 
know  He  made  such  a  curious  mixture  every  time  He 
created  a  man  or  woman." 

Philip  kept  on  pacing  the  floor,  as  before. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  he  repeated.  "  Anyhow,  it's  all 
too  much  for  me !  I  came  here  thinking  you  were  a  fiend 
incarnate.  Now  I  don't  know  what  to  think  about  you 
or  anyone  or  anything,  except  myself.  As  for  me — I'm 

951 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

not  fit  to  deal  with  these  things.  You  must  see  it  yourself. 
They  eat  into  my  soul,  and  I  do  no  good — do  harm,  maybe. 
I'm  going  to  quit !  " 

The  lawyer  left  him  to  his  monotonous  walk  between 
wall  and  wall,  for  an  appreciable  interval  of  time  before 
he  inquired  pointedly : 

"  What  else,  worth  while,  do  you  think  you  can  do?  " 

"Nothing!"  was  Philip's  frank  confession.  "I'm  a 
misfit.  There's  something  wrong  with  me." 

"What  will  you  do  then?"  came  the  next  question, 
"just  vegetate  until  you  decay  and  die?" 

"  Yes,"  the  minister  answered  bitterly. 

"  I'll  be  damned  if  you  do ! "  David  exploded  sud 
denly.  "  Look  here;"  he  went  on,  "  I'm  not  a  child. 
There's  more  to  all  this  than  Hirsch  and  Kaufman  and 
the  strike.  Even  if  you'd  made  a  flat  failure  of  it — which 
you  haven't — one  doesn't  quit  at  twenty-four,  because  he 
couldn't  win  the  first  skirmish.  You've  talked  odds  and 
ends,  about 'what  all  this  cost  you !  It  was  a  woman  you 
meant,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

Philip  made  no  answer  whatever. 

"  A  Christian,"  David  continued  confidently.  "  You 
stuck  to  your  job  when  you  found  you  couldn't  have 
both!" 

"  What  makes  you  imagine "  the  minister  began 

weakly. 

"  Don't  try  to  lie,"  David  orderd.  "  You  don't  do  it 
well ;  besides,  I'm  no  babbler.  It  doesn't  take  much  of  an 
imagination  for  me  to  guess  what's  the  matter  with  you. 
Don't  you  suppose  I've  ever  been  twenty-four  myself !  " 

He  sat  silent  for  a  minute,  musing.  At  last,  he  took 
up  his  thoughts  where  he  had  laid  diem  down. 

852 


GOD'S  WORK 

"  I  could  tell  you  about  my  own  boyhood  and  what 
came  after  it,  if  I  wanted.  It  wouldn't  strike  you  as  a 
happy  story.  Maybe  you'd  think  it  even  harsher  than  your 
own.  Everybody  in  this  genial  City  doesn't  spend  his 
time  trying  to  make  life  easy  for  a  penniless  Russian  Jew 

boy,  with  a  craving  to  live  and  work  like  his  betters. 

But  what's  the  use?  There's  no  one  who's  worth  the 
room  he  takes  up  on  earth,  who  hasn't  had  his  bad  times. 
The  question  is — what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  " 

Philip  still  made  no  answer,  and  David,  noticing  his 
shy  unwillingness  to  speak  of  his  tragedy,  went  on  with 
his  consideration  of  the  younger  man's  problem. 

"'Perhaps  you  didn't  know  it,  but  you  came  here  look 
ing  for  an  excuse.  If  your  work  wasn't  worth  the  sacri 
fice,  you  might  as  well  have  the  woman.  Now  you  may 
admit  it  or  not,  but  your  excuse  is  gone.  You  must  stick 
to  your  job !  " 

This  time,  Philip  forced  himself  to  give  thoughts 
words. 

"  I  don't  know — I  don't  agree  with  all  you've  said.  Be 
sides,  if  it's  true,  I  don't  know  how  to  work  in  this  kind 
of  world.  How  can  you,  of  all  men,  urge  me?  You  don't 
believe  in  my  work !  You  never  did !  You  don't  believe 
in  Religion  at  all !  " 

"  I  don't,"  the  lawyer  admitted  without  an  instant's 
hesitation.  "  I  don't,  for  myself ;  but  I  believe  in  it  for 
you,  and  I  believe  in  you,  too,  in  spite  of  all  the  things 
you've  done  and  said  to  make  me  fear  you  were  nothing 
but  a  dreamer.  Besides,  there's  one  thing  more  I  do  be 
lieve  in — the  Jew.  There's  something  about  us — I  don't 
know  what — that  the  world  needs.  You've  got  one  phase 
of  it,  with  your  beautiful,  impossible  visions;  I've  got 
23  353 


"  -^ 

>  r  f  " 
**j 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 


another  with  my  hard,  practical  will.  I  and  my  kind  have 
to  fight  against  you  and  your  kind,  but  they  need  us 
both,  and  I  shan't  let  you  shirk !  " 

The  Rabbi  made  no  effort  to  hide  his  astonishment  at 
this  unexpected  display  of  sentiment  coming,  as  it  did, 
from  David  Gordon. 

"  I  can  hear  you  think !  "  Gordon  laughed.  "  I  know 
it's  queer  for  me  to  be  preaching  like  this  to  a  preacher! 
But  it's  sense  I'm  talking.  You're  a  Jew.  You  can't 
hide  it  and  you  can't  escape  it.  You  may  try  to  run  away 
from  yourself,  but  you'll  only  be  a  pitiable,  contemptible 
Jew,  instead  of  a  decent  one.  If  you  choose  this  woman 
instead  of  your  Race,  you're  forever  lost  to  us — to  your 
self,  too.  If  she's  what  you  think  her,  she's  too  good  to 
be  tied  to  the  thing  you'll  become.  You  made  your  choice 
once,  and  it  was  the  right  one ;  stick  to  it !  Go  back  to 
your  job ! " 

"  What  can  I  do?  "  asked  Philip.  "  I  don't  believe  in 
people  any  more." 

"  Believe  something  sane  about  them,  then,"  David 
answered.  "  You  were  sure  they  were  all  essentially  good. 
Well,  they  aren't.  Learn,  if  you  can,  to  like  them  even  when 
they're  bad ;  make  them  do  what's  best  for  them  whether 
they  want  to  or  not,  only  don't  try  to  cram  it  down  their 
throats.  Let  them  think  they're  being  fed  on  delicious, 
forbidden  fruit,  while  all  the  time,  without  knowing  it, 
you're  giving  them  physic  in  doses  too  small  for  them  to 
taste,  but  sure,  after  years  of  treatment,  to  do  the  work." 

"  In  other  words,"  exclamed  Philip  indignantly,  "  make 
myself  over.  Learn  to  lie  and  flatter  and  pretend,  like  the 
rest — learn  to  make  people  do  what  I  want  by  seeming  to 
do  what  they  want!  " 

354 


GOD'S  WORK 

"  Just  so !  "  was  David's  genial  commendation.  "  You 
needn't  be  afraid  of  losing  too  much  of  your  present  self. 
Try  to  think  a  little  less  of  your  beautiful,  white  virtue ! 
A  man  can't  do  much  good  until  he  forgets  how  good 
he  really  is !  " 

Philip  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  "  I  don't  believe  I 
can  do  it,"  he  murmured. 

"  You  must,"  the  lawyer  assured  him.  "  I  shan't  let 
you  do  anything  else !  Can't  you  see  what  I  have  in  mind  ? 
As  a  result  of  somebody's  blunder,  you've  become  an  in 
fluence  here  in  Baltimore,  in  all  Jewry — maybe.  People 
believe  you  make  things  happen — settle  strikes,  and  such 
little  matters.  I  know  better.  So  do  you,  but  they  don't. 
Wouldn't  it  be  criminal  to  throw  away  such  a  chance? 
Think  what  you  might  do  next  time!  A  man  with  a 
dream,  learning,  bit  by  bit,  to  make  it  come  true!  The 
more  you've  paid  to  stand  where  you  are,  the  less  you  can 
afford  to  run  away  now ! " 

"  Is  it  a  promise  ?  "  the  lawyer  asked  suddenly. 

"  I'll  think  about  it,"  Philip  responded  slowly.  "  By 
the  time  my  next  chance  came,  perhaps  I  wouldn't  want 
to  seize  it ! " 

He  rose  in  preparation  for  his  departure ;  midnight  had 
long  since  come  and  gone. 

David  eyed  him  narrowly. 

"  Do  you  sleep  here,  or  do  I  sleep  in  your  rooms  ?  "  he 
inquired,  in  matter-of-fact  tones. 

"  Why,  neither,"  Philip  replied,  recognizing  gratefully 
David's  solicitude.  "  You  mustn't  think  I  don't  under 
stand  and  appreciate " 

"  Rot !  "  struck  in  David.  "  Do  you  think  I'm  fool 
enough  to  lose  a  useful,  up-town  ally?  How  do  I  know 

181 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

what  kind  of  a  successor  to  you,  Kaufman  may  pick?  I'm 
going  to  cling  to  you  like  a  shadow.  I'm  going  to  feed  you 
and  make  you  go  to  sleep  at  nights.  I  may  even  degrade 
myself  by  setting  foot  in  your  Temple  to  keep  you  from 
talking  pulpit  rubbish  1  And  tonight,  since  I  suppose  my 
pajamas  wouldn't  fit  you,  I  shall  go  with  you !  " 

The  lawyer  had  his  way.  As  the  two  of  them  walked 
up  Eutaw  Place  together,  they  encountered  a  gay  party  of 
young  men  and  women  returning  home  from  a  dance. 

"  Look !  "  whispered  a  young  girl  to  her  escort,  "  there 
goes  Dr.  Graetz  with  David  Gordon." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  suppose  they'll  see  a  lot  of 
one  another  since  they  settled  this  Pioneer  strike." 

"  Wasn't  it  splendid  of  Dr.  Graetz  ?  "  said  the  girl. 
"  Still,  do  you  think  he  ought  to  make  a  companion  of 
this  awful  Gordon  man?  Besides  all  the  rest,  he's  a  Rus 
sian,  you  know ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
A  PROPHET  LISTENS  TO  REASON 

"With  faith  in  our  hearts,  O  God,  have  we  entered  Thy 
house!" 

IT  was  the  Sabbath  morning,  and  Philip  Graetz,  stand 
ing  in  his  pulpit,  faced  his  congregation  and  spoke  in  his 
own  musical,  appealing  way,  the  familiar  words  of  the 
beautiful  ritual. 

The  Temple  Beth  El  was  not,  as  on  the  afternoon  of 
Atonement  Day,  filled  to  overflowing.  It  was  Saturday, 
and  there  were  more  than  a  few  vacant  places  which  told 
significantly  of  husbands,  brothers  and  sons  whose  prayer, 
if  made  at;  all,  was  expressed  in  terms  of  labor.  Still, 
the  congregation  was  certainly  not  a  small  one.  Since 
the  last  service,  the  Rabbi  had  achieved  his  remarkable 
triumph  in  the  settlement  of  the  Pioneer  controversy,  and 
there  were  many  men  who  deemed  it  worth  while  to  aban 
don  their  daily  tasks  to  discover  whether  their  minister, 
in  his  sermon,  would  make  any  reference  to  his  experi 
ence.  Those  who  liked  him  best,  hoped  he  would  preserve 
a  discreet)  silence  on  the  subject.  The  quarrel  had  left 
wounds  enough.  Philip,  in  bringing  about  Peace,  had 
done  a  deed  of  which  a  man  might  well  boast,  but,  there 
fore,  he  would  be  all  the  wiser  to  refrain  from  its  men 
tion.  There  was  no  way  it  could  be  discussed  without 
bestowing  censure  somewhere. 

And  before  these  people  stood  Philip,  telling  in  his 
vibrant  voice  how  they  had  gathered  together  with  faith 
in  their  hearts.  His  first  words  smote  him  with  a  sense 
of  mockery  and  deception.  He  had  not  come  there,  this 

357 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

morning,  with  a  heart  glowing  with  enthusiasm.  He  was 
there  to  begin  a  new  role  of  stratagem  and  casuistry. 
Never  again  was  he  to  lay  his  soul  bare  before  his  people 
and  his  God,  as  he  had  done  at  this  altar  in  the  passionate 
fervor  of  Atonement  Day.  Then  he  was  quivering  with  a 
divine  inspiration.  He  had  dedicated  himself  freely  and 
joyously  to  all  that  was  beautiful  and  holy.  Now  he  had 
been  taught  to  believe  God  himself  could  find  no  use  for 
such  impracticable  seeking  after  Him.  It  must  be  done  by 
devious  paths,  with  a  thought  all  the  while  to  the  snares 
of  men.  It  began  with  lies — this  new  mode  of  ministering 
to  one's  .people.  Where  would  it  end  ? 

With  this  undercurrent  of  protest  and  doubt  in  his 
thoughts,  Philip  read  the  Sabbath  service.  No  one  ap 
peared  to  perceive  the  slightest  variation  in  tone  or  gesture, 
to  tell  them  of  the  new  Rabbi  who  had  usurped  the  place 
of  the  young  enthusiast  they  had  chosen.  No  one,  that  is, 
except  perhaps  David  Gordon,  who  had  slipped  into  a 
pew  at  the  very  rear  of  the  building,  and  sat  there  half 
hidden  by  a  pillar,  watching  his  pupil  with  his  peculiar 
cryptic  smile. 

The  minister  as  he  read,  indulged  an  illogical  surprise 
to  find  how  little  of  his  new  mood  was  perceptible  to  his 
auditors.  He  felt,  since  they  were  so  blind,  God  Himself 
should  resent  this  intrusion  into  His  sacred  place  of  this 
impious  stranger,  and  cast  him  headlong  forth.  He 
almost  wished  He  would. 

While  the  choir  burst  forth  into  a  melodious  chant, 
Philip  remembered  that  he  might  still,  if  he  chose,  refuse 
to  surrender  his  beautiful  idealism.  There  was  still  a 
sermon  to  be  preached.  He  was  free  to  pour  forth  the 
thoughts  which  to  him  were  Truth,  and  always  would  be. 
Kaufman  was  there,  Hirsch  was  there,  and  so  was  Gordon. 

358 


A  PROPHET  LISTENS  TO  REASON 

Ruth  was  there,  too— intent,  and  looking  up  at  him  with 
her  great,  dark  eyes.  Could  it  be  the  law  of  life  that 
prudence  was  a  more  precious  thing  than  courage  ? 

If  a  man  stood  in  God's  presence  and  lived  a  lie — even 
a  well-meaning  lie — would  God  ever  again  trust  him  with 
the  flaming  sword  of  His  Justice? 

If  the  sermon  had  been  spoken  at  that  instant,  Philip's 
ministry  would  then  have  ended ;  but  the  organ  continued 
to  peal  forth  its  throbbing  harmony,  and  the  Rabbi  con 
tinued  to  struggle  with  his  thoughts  as  he  sat  there  in 
the  full  view  of  his  congregation,  who  supposed  his  spirit 
to  be  thrilled  with  the  happiness  of  his  victory  and  his 
people's  gratitude. 

These  were  his  people,  after  all.  Even  in  the  few 
months  he  had  been  with  them,  he  had  shared  so  many 
of  their  griefs  and  tried  to  help  them  in  so  many  of  their 
perplexities !  On  the  right,  sat  the  children  whom  he  was, 
next  week,  to  confirm  in  the  faith  of  their  fathers — unless 
next  week  should  come,  and  find  him  gone!  The  boys 
and  girls  would  be  sorry.  There  was  no  pretence  in  their 
fondness  for  him.  Nor  in  that  of  their  parents  either,  he 
was  forced  to  admit,  even  if  he  could  not  make  them 
think  of  God  and  Man  as  he  did.  Ah!  well,  who  was 
he,  after  all  his  failures  and  incompetency,  to  turn  away 
from  men  and  women  because  they  did  not  measure  up 
to  his  standards  ?  How  could  he  disdain  any  man,  what 
ever  he  may  have  said  or  done? 

In  this  state  of  deep  dejection,  Philip  rose  to  preach 
his  sermon.  There  was  mirrored  in  his  discourse  a  curi 
ous  mixture  of  his  new  mood  and  his  old.  He  spoke  of 
ideals,  and  how  one  must  never  lose  sight  of  them,  but  he 
spoke  also  of  tolerance  for  all  men — even  those  who 
fought  to  make  these  very  ideals  impossible  of  fulfilment. 

359 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

He  told  of  the  need  for  Religion  and  Judaism — in  every 
activity  of  commerce  and  endeavor,  but  he  allowed  the 
idea  to  creep  into  his  discourse  of  the  wrongfulness  of  a 
militant  effort  on  the  part  of  anyone  in  spiritual  author 
ity,  to  obtain,  by  force,  what  could  only  be  gained  through 
an  appeal  to  conscience. 

He  talked  on  in  this  manner,  voicing  empty,  meaning 
less  phrases,  until  his  discourse  had  consumed  nearly  half 
an  hour,  and  then  concluding  with  a  sonorous  platitude, 
he  returned  to  his  seat.  Once  more  the  organ  and  the 
choir  flooded  the  stately  building  with  music.  Philip 
examined  the  faces  of  his  congregation.  No  one  seemed 
to  have  detected  any  change  in  his  doctrine;  on  the  con 
trary,  the  decorous  rustle,  which  in  a  house  of  worship 
takes  the  place  of  applause,  was,  if  anything,  slightly  more 
prolonged  and  enthusiastic  than  usual.  Did  nothing  mat 
ter  in  this  most  paradoxical  of  all  paradoxical  worlds? 

Yes,  he  mattered  to  himself.  He  must  matter  a  little, 
besides,  to  what  men  called  God.  Otherwise,  how  could 
one  go  on  living? 

If  men  could  not  understand,  then  God  must  under 
stand  doubly,  and  give  him  strength  to  go  on,  as  he  must, 
with  his  task,  lacking  even  the  poor  solace  of  his  own 
approval. 

As  on  Atonement  Day,  his  exultation  had  found  voice 
in  prayer,  so  this  morning  in  his  bewilderment  and  doubt, 
he  rose  and  cried,  almost  with  a  sob  in  his  voice : 

"  Great  Spirit  of  the  Universe,  whom  none  of  us  may 
comprehend,  and  whose  will  we  seek  in  vain  to  know,  be 
with  us  as  we  tread  the  difficult  mazes  through  which 
we  wander  in  the  wilderness  called  Life. 

"  Help  us  in  our  blindness  and  our  ignorance  to  learn 
Thy  purpose  and  to  do  it. 

860 


A  PROPHET  LISTENS  TO  REASON 

"  Help  us  also  in  our  frantic  yearning  toward  the  dis 
tant  light,  to  deal  gently  with  our  surging  brothers  and 
sisters  who  seem,  in  their  haste,  to  crowd  us  back  into  the 
deeper  darkness. 

"  Give  us,  we  pray,  a  measure  of  Thy  Divine  Love 
which  looks  upon  our  weakness  and  our  sin  with  an  all- 
forgiving  compassion. 

"  When  Moses,  Thy  servant  of  old,  after  all  he  had 
yielded  up  of  soft  Egyptian  ease  and  the  warm  human 
happiness  of  hearth  and  home,  learned  of  his  unworthiness 
to  enter  the  Land  of  Promise,  Thou  didst  so  fill  his  heart 
with  Thine  own  Spirit  that  he  did  not  in  his  bitterness  of 
woe  abandon  Thy  people  to  their  fate.  He  was  given 
strength  to  bear  with  their  murmurings  through  the  long 
years  in  the  Wilderness,  teaching  them  to  know  Thy 
Holy  Law,  and  to  be  ready  for  the  Glorious  Destiny  he 
was  never  to  share. 

"  Help  me,  too,  O  all-wise  Father,  as  we  seek,  through 
desolate  wastes,  the  land  we  know  not,  and  into  which  I 
may  not  enter,  to  be  faithful  to  -my  trust  even  when  I  fail 
to  comprehend  its  meaning.  May  I  minister  to  these,  Thy 
Priest  People,  in  love  and  tenderness,  even  if,  perchance, 
they  murmur  against  Thee.  So  that  in  the  end — not  we, 
but  our  children's  children  may  behold  that  day  when  Thy 
promise  shall  be  fulfilled — and  through  Israel,  Thy  bless 
ing  and  Thy  truth,  shall  become  known  to  all  the  Nations." 
******  ** 

David  Gordon,  plunged  deep  in  thought,  forgot  com 
pletely  his  crafty  scheme  to  escape  quietly  from  the  Tem 
ple  during  the  benediction,  and  thus  avoid  all  inconveni 
ent  notice.  It  happened,  therefore,  that  as  he  stood  in 
the  portico,  he  found  himself  next  to  Clarence  Kaufman 
who,  under  the  double  spell  of  the  Divine  Service  and 

361 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

the  recent  truce  in  the  labor  war,  felt  moved  to  hold  out 
his  hand  in  friendly  greeting. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Gordon,"  he  said  effusively. 
"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  here.  You  should  come  oftener." 

He  spoke  as  one  having  a  vested  interest  in  the  hospi 
tality  of  the  House  of  God.  David  gave  him  his  char 
acteristic,  exasperating  smile. 

"  Wasn't  it  a  splendid  sermon  ?  "  Kaufman  went  on, 
as  though  he  defied  this  connoisseur  of  speech  to  deny  it. 
"  Inspiring,  I  call  it !  " 

"  Just  the  right  word,  Mr.  Kaufman,"  answered  David, 
without  the  slightest  change  of  expression.  "  But  the  best 
of  it  is  this :  Dr.  Graetz  will  preach  a  better  one  ten  years 
from  today." 

After  which,  the  lawyer  slowly  wedged  his  way  through 
the  throng,  intending  to  hasten  back  to  his  busy  office. 
On  the  pavement,  however,  he  came  unexpectedly  face  to 
face  with  Ruth,  and  he  paused  and  bowed. 

"Well,  David  Gordon,"  she  exclaimed,  "you're  the 
last  man  I  should  have  expected  to  fall  under  the  spell  of 
a  Rabbi." 

"  I  am  the  last  one,"  he  replied ;  "  it  only  happened  this 
morning.  Still,  it's  a  brilliant  achievement  for  Graetz. 
Anyone  might  convert  a  Christian  to  Judaism — but  a  Jew ! 
It's  never  been  heard  of  before ! " 

She  laughed  gaily  as  she  answered : 

"  I  can  understand  how  he  did  it,  after  you  once  got 
here.  But  how  he  succeeded  in  making  you  come,  passes 
my  understanding ! " 

"  Oh !  "  David  said,  with  an  air  of  deep  mystery.  "  He 
really  can't  claim  any  credit  for  that.  I  was  on  an  errand 
of  the  devil's  when  I  strayed  into  the  House  of  the  Lord. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  came  on  important  business ! " 

362 


A  PROPHET  LISTENS  TO  REASON 

Ruth's  expression  hovered  between  shocked  amuse 
ment  and  equally  shocked  indignation.  Before  she  could 
give  voice  to  either  one  or  the  other,  however,  she  noticed 
Philip  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  and  forgot  all  about  David 
and  his  blasphemies,  as  she  threw  the  minister  a  radiant 
glance  across  the  space  which  separated  them.  Philip 
moved  steadily  toward  her,  stopping  now  and  then  to 
acknowledge  the  greetings  of  one  of  his  admiring  flock. 

None  of  this  unspoken  drama  was  lost  on  David.  He 
smiled  his  inscrutable  smile  and  turning  to  go,  said  to  the 
girl: 

"  You  see,  I  am  more  candid  than  you,  Miss  Hartman. 
Even  if  I  were  clever  enough  to  guess,  I'm  sure  you'd 
never  admit — to  me  or  to  anyone  else — just  what  bit  of 
business  brought  you  to  Temple  this  morning !  " 

Before  Ruth  could  express  her  very  genuine  annoyance 
at  David's  impertinence,  he  had  crossed  the  street,  and 
Philip's  slow  progress  had  brought  him  to  her  side. 

The  lawyer,  from  his  point  of  vantage  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  parkway,  observed  them  intently  as  the  two 
walked  down  the  street  together. 

Evidently,  something  in  the  situation  appealed  to 
David's  peculiar  sense  of  the  ironic,  for  his  habitual 
cryptic  smile  seemed  insufficient  to  do  justice  to  the  occa 
sion,  and  he  gave  vent  to  the  odd  throaty  chuckle  he 
reserved  for  those  supreme  moments  when  he  tasted  the 
full  flavor  of  his  philosophy. 

But  when  the  sound  had  died  away,  he  stood  there  for 
an  instant — his  face  grave  and  thoughtful — as  though  he 
were  trying  to  puzzle  out  some  important  problem. 

Then  he  turned,  and  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
hurried  on. 

'Finis. 


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